Duck from dusk till dawn

The teal descended as lightly as a butterfly hovers over a flower. Once settled in the centre of the oval pool she began to busy herself with preening, sending ripples out to the barley that lay at the water’s edge. Patrick Galbraith, the Editor, and I were both surprised and transfixed by her shadowy shape. We clutched our 12-bores and squinted into the gathering darkness, hidden by the branches of silver birch scrub.

“No idea where that came from,” I whispered, now scouring the skyline for a second bird. The waxing half-moon blinked a silent reply. Mars shone red in the inky sky, as enigmatic as the teal that bustled on the water only 10 yards in front of us.

Cleopatra eyes

Teal have long been a source  rightly challenges his readers: “I defy you to pocket a drake teal without first admiring its symmetry and plumage.” They are indeed handsome little ducks.