Birds in their splendour

Once in a while our wonderful sport throws an ornithological marvel our way. The deadly accuracy of a kestrel; the haunting beauty of skies full of geese; the electric energy of long-tailed tits; an armour-piercing kingfisher in freefall — we all have cherished moments when sport has brought us closer to birds in their splendour. They have the power to thrill and to surprise in equal measure.

I was treated to such a moment on my last outing of the season. A friend and I were after wild duck over freshwater. It was an icy cold day and four of Pete Thompson’s five reservoirs were almost completely covered with ice. Only reservoir number 4 — no romantic names for the Thompsons — was ice-free. As we stalked towards it, one on either