Even necessity is fun

May mornings are magical almost anywhere. They come close to perfection during the first hour or so after dawn when the sky is clear, a turtle dove is croodling somewhere not very far away and roe deer are grazing in the meadow while humanity is enjoying its customary Sunday morning lie-in.

There is an especially piquant pleasure in roe stalking when London is barely out of sight beyond the treetops of the encircling woods, and when the slumbering humanity in the cottages round about are of the kind from whom crowded commuter trains exact a daily penance.

All pleasures have to be paid for in one way or another; a 4.30am start is a bit of a shock but when it comes to fieldsports, a dawn rise is often part of the deal. The pain was