War on peas

A flock of at least 200 pigeons and around 30 jackdaws lifted from the peas on a shower-swept, blustery June morning. A faulty gas-gun and wind-torn bird-scarers were evidently not doing their jobs. Human intervention was required.

Numbers had built quickly. A few were feeding hard on the lower 12 acres near to the estuary where the crop grew thickest. But the majority rose and fell like clouds over the higher, larger portion of the field. One patch of crop in particular, under the umbrella of an ancient oak on the eastern edge, was badly damaged. Ragged ends and bald stems showed that the greedy grey hordes were gorging themselves at my expense.

Birds scattered into trees around the periphery of the farm and watched my progress as I constructed a hide. Armfuls of poplar offcuts were added to eight inward sloping poles and two