Last night whilst laying in bed naked, scratching away at my balls and reading the latest copy of British Birds (it tends to get me off to sleep better than Horlicks), I suddenly felt a disturbance in the force. Whilst concentrating on an article regarding the isotope analysis of a recently shot Marbled Duck in Essex I heard the distinctive song of a small, migratory game bird drift in through the wide open window. I slammed down the aforementioned journal, cupped my tackle, skipped to the window and rammed my head into the refreshing night air.... "Vip verrr Vip, Vip verrr Vip" (I ain't really a fan of wet lips) said the bird. For the first time since May 2000 I was listening to a male QUAIL singing away just yards from the house..... superb.
With the bird still calling I pulled on my jeans and trainers, grabbed a torch and my bins and headed out into the darkness to see if I could catch a glimpse of the little critter. As I walked across my small wildflower meadow towards the set-aside field behind the house I flushed a bird but failed to get the torch onto it quick enough.... NOOOOOOOO! My fears were then confirmed when a QUAIL then started to call again but much further away towards the middle of the field.... bugger!
Despite getting up early this morning and having a listen there was no further sight or sound of the bird.
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