From there I found somewhere quiet, somewhere out of the way where I could just sit and watch. This is not difficult as there are many such places here just waiting waiting to be found.
The place that I chose this time was an old flooded quarry that still had a covering of ice: sealing all the life that will eventually become countless Dragonflies when the Sun warms up this world. Birds returned to the surrounding Gorse, no longer bothered by the movements of an intruder and flitted with amazing speed between sharp points and yellow flowers. Dartford Warblers first and then the smallest of the small, the Goldcrest. Both wonderful to watch and both difficult to get a shot of.
Whilst I was failing miserably to get any half reasonable shots, I had the distinct impression that I was being watched. The eyes that burned into the back of my head were amongst the most beautiful that you will ever see around here and belonged to a very relaxed, sunbathing Fox.
There are worse ways to spend a Sunday.