Rare hare

Last week's sparrow training course covered landing on the wall without crashing into it, and eating seeds. Now we only have to open the kitchen blind first thing, and twelve fledglings arrive to form a disorderly queue.

Today, as they did that, Hare turned up. We see Hare once, maybe twice in a year. Sometimes he's on the road, owning it. Other times, like now, he moves secretly in the barley, out of sight. Suddenly then, out of nowhere, he is there. He remained like this, quite still, for about a minute. Then suddenly he was gone. I didn't see him move. Hare just wasn't there any more. And I didn't see where he went.

This week's sparrow training is about doing the fat balls. "Look Dad, I'm on the fatball holder. What do I do now? ... oops ... clunk. Oh well, I'll eat the pheasant's seed down here." Cue expostulating pheasant and sparrow departure.

Note:  The barley really is that sickly green colour, because the ground is so wet in this corner of the field.