As always happens when faced with snowy conditions, I want to be in 5 places at once but on this occasion I had no choice but to stay close to home as the drive was blocked and my 4WD vehicle had a flat battery!

So I got the battery on charge and then spent the morning ‘messing about’ in the garden shooting spring foliage covered in snow – itself an unusual combination and after all I’ve got plenty of cute red squirrels sat in the snow!

The morning was a mix of sunshine and showers and by the time I got the car started it was snowing again. I had a plan of sorts in mind as I headed out but it was more of a speculative drive hoping to find suitable subjects close to the road in a few of my favourite haunts. The local marsh provided the first opportunity with a buzzard hunkered down in a silver birch before taking flight.

The nearby fields, wet meadows and rough grazing land support good numbers of breeding waders, which have been back on territory for the past couple of weeks but the snow had caught them out as well and they were congregated on any open areas probing around in the wet ground. Seeing groups of curlew, oystercatcher and lapwing on the snow was certainly unusual but most were too far from the road for any decent shots although I had a nice fly by of a group of greylag geese.

Just out of the village I came across my first spring migrants of the year (in Scotland) – a couple of male wheatears searching for insects along the road and verge, flitting up onto the fence posts and allowing a very close approach seemingly unconcerned. The single track road presented a few problems with other traffic interupting my photography though!

Lapwings were very evident on their traditional breeding grounds but there wasn’t a lot of displaying going on – the weather appearing to have cooled their ardour. Most were seeking out the small patches of exposed ground on the larger expanse of snow, flitting between them in search of food. There was a brief squabble between two males perhaps over territory that I managed to capture – it was an ‘almost shot’ which really needed a turn of the birds heads towards me but there’s not a lot you can do in these circumstances except hit the button and hope for the best.

With the fuel tank well into the red I made my way into town stopping briefly to photograph a mixed flock of greylag and pink-footed geese, the latter a on their way further north and much more wary than their near relatives.

Having been relieved of the best part of £90 for diesel I headed north onto the moors in search of red grouse. I had hoped for a clean carpet of snow on which to photograph the grouse but the earlier sunshine had created a patchwork of small ‘islands’ of exposed heather. The grouse were easy enough to spot on the snow but when tucked in amongst the heather they quickly disappeared. Shooting dark birds on a white background is a nightmare to expose correctly and it’s easy to end up with either featureless underexposed grouse or burnt out snow.

The snow flurries continued for a while and the prospects for any good light looked slim as I continued across the moorland but by the time I reached the main road a strip of blue sky promised a bright spell as the sun dropped towards the horizon. So instead of turning for home I re-traced my tracks hoping for further grouse encounters. All the areas where I’d had success on previous visits were devoid of birds and so I returned to the pair I’d found earlier. They were still close to the road and bathed in late afternoon sunlight. Shooting from the car was awkward but there was little point in trying to get out as this would certainly disturb the birds. So with the gear stick reaching parts I’d rather it wasn’t, I lent across the passenger seat, handholding the 500mm lens at an acute angle to avoid the wing mirror and managed a few shots. The male was walking across the snow moving away from me so I gave my best grouse impression to attract it’s attention, which also prompted it to call back to me.

Photographing from the car may not be the truly ‘wild’ experience but it is at least warm and (mostly) comfortable and can, as was the case this week, generate a lot of images in a short space of time.

Our voyage aboard the Origo began the following afternoon and along with the Northshots tour group we headed north up the west coast. A full day’s steaming lay ahead but whilst the sun lasted the following fulmars provided some photography.

By early Sunday evening we had reached Lagoya, an island off the north coast and home to a sizeable walrus colony that we reached by Zodiac. The light was mostly overcast but a thin strip of clear sky near the horizon promised better light. The mass of bodies made it difficult to isolate an individual or compose a shot but when the sun finally broke through things improved and we enjoyed about 15 minutes of great light both for the walrus and the nearby arctic terns that entertained us with their mid-air squabbles and occasionally alighting close-by.

With the drift ice unusually a long way north we continued on, passing 81º we no ice in sight. Finally, we found a narrow finger of ice that we entered in our quest for polar bears. These nomadic hunters travel great distances on the drift ice as they search for the main prey of seals but finding them is another matter. They spend much of the day sleeping, curled up in a ball making them a challenge to spot even in good light. Throw in the element of fog and spotting a bear becomes a game of chance. Fortunately, the weather was holding for now and our decision to follow the drift ice paid off with the sighting of a male bear.

Up close, he looked old and weary and it was clear that he was not in the best of shape. It was our first bear and naturally everyone was keen to get some shots but we soon moved on.

A few hours later a distant ‘off-white’ blob on the ice gave us hope of another bear and sure enough our hunch was correct. It was another male but larger and looking much more healthy. Thankfully, he hung around for quite some time and gave everyone some great opportunities. We were equally lucky with the light, with a great sky that lent itself well for wider shots of the bear in its arctic environment. It was a ’2 bear day’ – not bad for our first day in the ice.

Fog hampered our efforts the following day but long hours on the the top deck searching and peering through the gloom finally produced a bear. It was somewhat wary of the boat but hey it was another sighting so nobody was complaining (well not much anyway!).

After ‘parking’ in the ice overnight, we had drifted some 6 miles and the ice had fragmented by the next morning. We tried to relocate more densely packed ice without success and so were left with the dilemma of heading much further north to reach the main ice or returning towards land – with deteriorating conditions we decided on the latter and headed off towards the Hinlopen Strait.

After a detour to take at look at Wahlenbergfjorden we headed further south down Hinlopen to a walrus colony where we set-up close to the water’s edge near to the main colony in the hope of attracting inquisitive individuals keen to check us out. It worked a treat and we soon had what looked like the ‘daddy’ of the colony looming large in front of us. In fact he was keen to demonstrate his not inconsiderable bulk as he lumbered purposely up the beach towards us. We quickly conceded ground and he eyed us somewhat suspiciously from a safe distance before returning to the main colony triumphantly having seen off 12 human wimps!

Monaco glacier is one of the most scenic locations in Svalbard and it was here that we headed next, arriving mid-morning and almost immediately spotting a mother polar bear with two half grown cubs in close attendance. They were some distance away but by the time we boarded the Zodiacs after lunch they were moving quickly towards the shore giving us some great views. Living on land at this time of the year must be hard going for bears with little to eat now that the breeding birds had departed and it appeared that they were feeding on the sparse vegetation.

We spent the rest of the afternoon cruising around in front of the glacier searching for seals that might in turn attract a hunting bear. Despite the efforts of my colleague, Pete Cairns to liven things up by accidentally throwing himself out of the Zodiac (after which much hilarity ensued) there was little activity of the animal kind until we spotted a seal hauled out on ice as we headed back to the ship. We made a slow approach to within 30m and then turned off the engine, switching instead to paddle power. The seal, which turned out to be a very handsome bearded seal remained very relaxed and amazingly seemed unperturbed by the volley of motordrives each time it raised its head to look in our direction. In all we were privileged to spend more than 30 minutes in its presence, at times no ore than 7 metres away – a remarkable encounter.

With time slipping through our fingers as it always does we travelled overnight retracing our steps around the north-west corner and then south down the west coast, reaching Kongsfjorden by midday. The approach through Lilliehookfjorden was spectacular with towering cliffs on either side and recently calved blue icebergs from the magnificent 7 km wide glacier at its terminus.

Size and distance are hard to fathom in such a vast landscape and what appears to be a few hundred metres is in fact several miles, whilst the 80m high blue ice that forms the leading edge of the glacier seemed no more than the height of a house. Things changed somewhat once we were bobbing around in a Zodiac which was just a mere speck amongst the floating ice and the power of the ever moving glacier became apparent as chunks of ice the size of several houses fell into the sea below with an accompanying thunderous roar.

The scenics here were the best of the trip and although the sun alluded us the swirling mist around the mountains provided the atmospheric backdrop to the intensity of the blue ice. We searched in vain for several hours but had little to show for our efforts save for kittiwakes and glaucous gulls.

Revived by chocolate brownies we returned to the water and were eventually rewarded with a repeat performance of the day before but this time with a much smaller ringed seal. There were several around and after a couple of fruitless approaches, one suddenly popped up in front of us and slunk out onto the ice to ‘enjoy’ the limelight and the constant rattle of camera shutters.

We spent the night anchored a safe distance in front of the glacier and were back out in the Zodiacs at 5am. Conditions were perfectly calm as we searched once more for a dozing seal or polar bear on the prowl. It was not to be on this occasion but was a reminder that here perhaps more than anywhere, wildlife encounters are not around every corner (or iceberg) and that patience and a philosophical outlook are more important than photographic prowess. Qualities that were equally important as I made my way through Heathrow airport the following night but it all seemed a lot less stressful out on the ice.

Many thanks to the splendid crew of the Origo and for the entertaining company of the Northshots tour guests. For details of next year’s trip visit www.northshots.com

The morning started well with a female in the marsh very close to home. It was on the move before I stopped the car but with the camera/lens set up ready I managed to grab a few shots and it did have the decency to stop and take a look at me before taking full flight.

The conditions were beautiful at the time, with the sun just clearing the wood and casting some lovely golden light across the marsh with a hint of mist lifting off the ditch beyond. Such moments are always very fleeting and its usually a matter of luck if you have something to work with at the time.

Second stop were a ‘pair’ quite close to the road. Bucks always seem more wary but as they are now coming into the mating season they hang around the does waiting for them to come into season and this is the best time to try to capture them. They are also looking really smart with reddish-brown coats. I had to shoot through a wire fence for this one but there was a gap between the wires at just the right position to avoid any softness to the image. The luck was with me.

There were several other does along the way, most off in the distance, until I chanced upon two of last year’s fawns lying in the long grass very close to the road. The female was further back feeding and I was able to get a few shots of one of the youngsters before they both moved away to join their mother.

I started work on the harriers in mid-June in collaboration with Glen Tanar Estate, who incidentally have the only known pair of breeding harriers in north-east Scotland. I met up with Colin Maclean from the estate on a typically damp morning and we headed up a long steep land rover track deep into the hills. A patchwork of heather moorland extended in every direction for this is prime red grouse country and most of the estates on Deeside provide grouse shooting as part of their activities. And for this reason alone, harriers in particularly are not welcomed, such is their penchant for taking young grouse especially when they have hungry chicks to feed.

So, it was very refreshing to talk to Colin about the Estate’s more pragmatic approach to dealing with what is most often perceived as a ‘problem’. It may be ‘just’ a single pair of harriers on the estate but even this can make quite a dent in the red grouse population during the course of a breeding season. To try to alleviate some of the grouse predation, and at the same time turn the presence of the harriers into an attractive ‘product’ for photographers, Colin has been putting out chunks of venison (also from the estate), which the female has been feeding to the chicks. As the larger bird of the pair it is often the female that predates the most grouse, and so by providing this supplementary food supply her hunting forays are reduced, and so then is the impact on valuable grouse stocks.

Arriving at the site, Colin already had a hide in place. At which point I should mention that this was provided by my colleague Pete Cairns and I should have known it would have been in less than favourable condition. And indeed it was. One pole was jammed at half height and another wouldn’t lock into its full height position, which left just two poles at 5 feet and two at 3 feet and a hide barely fit for purpose. The prospect of spending 12 hours with my head jammed against the roof of the hide, bent double trying to look through a two inch opening for an approaching bird was not very inviting! Don’t worry I’ll get my own back sometime!

The nest itself was out of view  in deep heather where there were four well grown chicks already partially feathered up and starting to flap about as they strengthened their flight muscles. My job was a simple one in theory – to photograph the female as she approached the nest. However, I knew from past experience with harriers that they often sneak into the nest quickly and from any direction so vigilance on my part was paramount. With the female in my sights I could keep track of her movements but I’d lose her every so often, which brought about mild panic, constantly checking each of the ‘port holes’ to try to spot her approaching. Several times I missed her and she dropped in unexpectedly. With a bird that feeds every few minutes like a blue tit this is no big deal but with a harrier that only feeds every hour or so each missed opportunity means another long wait for the next chance.

After the first day I had secured some successful shots of the female coming into the nest so job half done. The next morning I slipped into the hide at 0415 so as not to disturb the female from the nest. During the morning both the male and female were hunting well bringing in 7 items of prey between them – a mix of pipits and grouse (both red and black). At midday Colin returned along with Roy Dennis who had come to ring and fit satellite tracking devices to the chicks. This had been very successful last year in tracking the birds movements, with one bird returning to Glen Tanar Estate in spring having roamed widely . This progress of this year’s chicks (and other raptors) can be followed on the Raptor Track web site.

On leaving, Colin left some venison on a nearby rock hoping that the female would take it for the chicks and provide me with some different shots. Back in the hide I didn’t have to wait long and as soon as Colin and Roy were out of sight, the female honed in on the food. By now the day had turned from clear blue sky to a heavy drizzle but the light remained good and I enjoyed a frantic few minutes of photography as they female returned to the rock several times in quick succession. Once the food was gone things quietened down and with the rain getting heavy, the female settled down to brood the chicks and I sneaked out the hide and headed for home eager to see the results.

I have photographed blackcock many times over the past few years and you would have thought that I would have got what I wanted by now. After all how hard can it be? Well it is actually quite hard – not necessarily to get good shots but to get something a bit different – and the opportunity for actually taking pictures is short because of the low light conditions when they are displaying most vigourously. The birds arrive on the lek about 1 hour before sunrise at which time it’s just their white tail feathers that are visible in the gloom. I usually start to mess round with some very slow shutter speed work (1 – 2 secs) fairly early on using high ISO settings but generally the results are all throw-aways but now and then something ‘arty’ pops up but it does take a bit of imagination to work out what’s going on in the picture! The advent of low noise, high ISO shooting is a real godsend though for blackcock photography and useable images can now be obtained at ISO3200.

The position of the lek I have been working is such that its possible to shoot from almost any position -n front lit, back lit, lying down etc. so there are really limitless possibilities. After a couple of ‘regular’ sessions, which didn’t really yield anything I hadn’t got before, I tried using my low level hide to get a different perspective. This produced some good results but I had to be content with photographing just two of the birds as the others were in a bit of a dip and out of view. The following week the weather was settled with clear cool nights and so I wanted to try to get some back lit images that would hopefully show up the bird’s breath when they called. By shooting into a dark hillside opposite this worked pretty well and I was pleased with the results. I tried again the following morning but this time it was hazy and warmer and there was no breath visible. It’s always a bit of a risk photographing this way because if the intended shot doesn’t come off then the light is very quickly too harsh to shoot ‘regular’ material and you come away with nothing.

A day or two passed before I went back again, once more setting up for backlit images. It was a cold morning with a slight frost – ideal conditions – and soon a mist was moving up the valley adding further to the dramatic conditions. I knew that once the sun rose, this mist would begin to glow orange and would provide a fantastic backdrop for the grouse. The only concern was having two males squaring up to each in the right place at the right time in what would only be a 5-10 minute window. Individual blackcock always take up the same position on the lek and fight in exactly the same spot every morning so I knew that two of the males would fight in a good position although they didn’t do it very often. Sure enough as the sun came up over the far hill the lek was bathed in glorious light coming through a veil of mist. A few minutes passed and the males remained in their respective positions but not where I wanted them. Then all of a sudden their activity cranked up 10 fold as a female flew overhead calling as she went and landed just outside the leking arena. The presence of a female always sparks a frenzy of activity as males vie for attention – leaping high into the air performing elaborate ‘flutter jumps’.

A female is always worth fighting over too and, just in time from my point of view with the light still optimum, two males moved into the ideal position and engaged in a few seconds of fighting activity. It was all over very quickly but it was long enough for me to capture the shot I wanted. But have I ‘done’ blackcock? – have I heck and I’ll be back again next spring – I can’t wait!

Anyway, I digress somewhat because I was going to talk about what motivates me to go out and take pictures and I think – although I’m never 100% sure about this – its because of the positive feelings that close contact with nature brings. Now this all sounds very woolly and unmanly but I always feel a lot more positive about things generally when I’ve been out in the field either taking pictures  or watching and experiencing what I hope to take pictures of in the future and of course all those things that I see but which I’ll never get even close to photographing.

A case in point. I was out yesterday morning in a part of Abernethy Forest that I have never been to before, shooting pine forest material for 2020VISION. This was the motivation and reason for being there but photographically it was a rather frustrating experience. Clear skies loomed above me but all around the horizon dark clouds threatened rain – potentially perfect conditions for landscape photography except that the sun was obscured by cloud for all but 60 seconds of the 2 hours following sunrise. By the time the sun did break through that warm early morning light had gone and some of the magic was lost. But standing, waiting on a boggy patch of moorland – with a wet foot having misjudged a ditch crossing – I was aware of a bird song with which I was not familiar. I tracked the song down to a bird stood atop a stunted pine tree but without binoculars I couldn’t make it out. Instead I took a shot of it with my 200mm lens – it was a mere pin prick in the frame but blown up on the LCD screen I could just make out that it was a wader. In fact it was no ordinary wader – it was a wood sandpiper, a very rare breeding bird within the UK (they usually breed on the tiaga of Scandinavia) that would quicken the pulse of any keen birdwatcher. After a while it rose into the sky and performed a song flight. A second male joined it, both birds displaying high over their breeding grounds. Magical and something I had never previously seen.

Earlier, I had been eyeing up a potential shot of the dawn sky reflected in a small pool when something that sounded like a galloping pony thundered past within a couple of metres behind me. I turned just in time to see a large – possibly male – otter run by and belly flop into the pool 15m away. It surfaced once, probably to check me out and then disappeared into the reeds. Wow! My heart was racing – it was totally out of the blue and not a species I would have expected to see in that kind of environment. I checked the ‘path’ through the heather on which it had traveled and found a fresh spraint – it had obviously been this way before quite recently, so probably a favoured feeding spot.

Eventually, after trying a few time lapse sequences of weathered pines, I headed back through the forest disturbing a small flock of crossbills on the way – a bogey bird for me and one I have never photographed. It had been a rewarding morning, topped off by a fry-up after stopping off at the local butcher’s. There were no trophies to show for my efforts but the two wild encounters more than made up for that.

A couple of years ago a pair began investigating a smallish hole in another tree but I think the cavity was too small at the time to allow them to nest. But jackdaws are quite strange in this respect as they seem determined that if they look long enough at it and keep sticking their heads inside it will miraculously become suitable! They have done the same this year at the entrance of a starling nest box, which has a hole that is obviously too small for a jackdaw to fit through. Nevertheless, a pair (possible inexperienced in the finer points of nest choosing) kept trying to get in for more than two weeks.

This year two other holes have ‘developed’ in the old tree and this has attracted no less than 3 pairs of jackdaws to investigate with several scraps breaking out as they vie for the top spot, which it turns out is a new hole further up. The pair winning the right to nest here seem to pretty switched on and have methodically collected twigs, dry grass and bits of wool to make their nest. The other pairs have done a lot of ‘sticking their heads into holes’ but despite managing to drop a good number of twigs inside their respective pads, I’m not convinced they are nesting.

It took a little while for the birds to work out how to get a 60cm+ twig into an opening with a diameter of no more than 10cm but after some amusing attempts they came up with a technique of shimmying their beaks along the twig so that it was held at at very end and then they could enter the hole and pull the twig in all in one movement. After clearing most of the garden of wind-blown twigs, and adding the soft furnishings things have all gone quiet and I suspect that they are now incubating eggs. Things will hot up again in a few weeks when the growing chicks begin to noisily beg for food.

Which brings me finally to the main topic of this blog – the Aurora Borealis or northern lights, which I recently had the pleasure of seeing first hand in Lapland in northern Finland. I had seen the Aurora Borealis a couple of times in Scotland around 2002 or 2003 when there was an especially good display that extended down into northern England, but more typically you have to travel much further north to get reliable and brighter displays. A friend contacted me about 2 months ago and said that he was setting up a new business called Aurora Hunters and would I like to help him leading photography trips in Finland. Needless to say my ears pricked up when he mentioned that he had a few spare days and I was welcome to join him for a spot of Aurora hunting!

A couple of weeks later I stepped off the plane at Inari airport into freezing conditions and blanket snow -  the first daffs of spring back home seemed a long way away! We headed out of the airport with the intention of grabbing a quick pizza back at Andy’s flat but we had only gone about 15 miles when the Aurora struck. In fact I hadn’t noticed it to be honest but when Andy turned down the lights of the car it was clearly visible and even more so once we stepped outside. Still in my ‘travel wear’ – i.e. thin trousers and a T-shirt to avoid heat exhaustion at the airport terminals – I strode off into the snow armed with a tripod and my shiny new Nikon 14-24mm lens. A few steps later I was thigh deep in the stuff and my boots were quickly filling with melting snow. Ah well it would be worth it if only I get those blasted telegraph poles out the shot. Several minutes later and only about 10m further on I set up camp and banged off a few frames not really sure what I was getting.

Meanwhile the aurora was developing very nicely on the other side of the road. S*** and b*******!! Another herculean effort ensued and I was back standing behind the car from where Andy had not moved and who was smiling broadly at my attempts to wade through ‘treacle’. The moon was just setting and bands of green light swept across the sky – I needed the 14mm just to get most of it in the frame. We continued to shoot until it faded and then returned to town to pick up two other guests and then back out into the dark to continue our quest. The rest of the night didn’t disappoint with some amazing displays of lights dancing across the sky on into the early hours. We finally had the pizza at 0230!

P.S. Hoping to lead a few trips to Finland in November 2011 and January 2012 so if you fancy some Aurora photography drop me a line to register your interest.

The moorland track was running with water from recent snowmelt and is was a slippery climb up onto the lek carrying two rucksacks – one with my tent hide, sleeping bag and two tripods the other with two telephoto lenses and camera bodies -  and a flask of coffee to keep me awake!

I soon found the lek site with the aid of my head torch and set about erecting my tent which I use as hide for the blackcock as it provides a good low viewpoint, plus I can get into my sleeping bag and catch forty winks whilst I’m waiting for the birds to arrive. With the tent erected I piled everything inside and pinned a camouflage netting across the tent opening and set up the tripods one for my 300 f2.8 lens the other for a 200-400mm thereby giving me some options for compositions. Cue mini-disaster – I had forgotten to put the tripod plate back on the 200-400mm lens so there was no way I could attach it to the tripod head! I manged to kind of balance it and then tried to tie in on with some cord I had with me. Not ideal and not exactly rock solid but it might just work!

It was just getting light when the first bird dropped in but it was nervous. I could several other birds lingering around further back and expected them to gather together in the main arena of the lek. It was a couple of weeks earlier than when I did them last year and maybe they weren’t in ‘full leking mode’. I was worried that maybe the hide was putting them off and this may have been the case but again last year and on every other occasion I have photographed blackcock, they have never shown any signs of unease about the hide. It was also quite windy and I know this does sometimes make them nervous or alternatively there may have been a raptor around that was spooking them.

A few birds eventually came onto the lek but didn’t display very much and soon departed for the pine trees lower down the hill. It had been a largely fruitless morning in terms of photography but I had learnt something more of their behaviour and also not to take anything for granted . As I packed up I spotted four mountain hares eyeing me suspiciously in the bright sunshine that was now breaking over the nearby hillside. I left them to it and turned by attention to red grouse which turned out to be more obliging and photographable from the comfort of my vehicle. Not in the same league as their close relatives for excitement and entertainment but enjoyable nevertheless.

By now it was 16.30 and we had been in the hide since well before dawn so as not to betray our presence to any eagles that might be in the vicinity. The wind had been blowing fiercely all day and we hadn’t seen a bird, not even a crow. Still, our guide would soon be coming to let us out and we could warm up. It was around -10 degrees outside and the small heater had done little to keep the cold from nipping at my toes. Then from nowhere an eagle landed on a distant pine tree where it began to feed on a black grouse (again put out as bait). The eagle was clearly struggling to get much meat from the now frozen carcass and it soon turned its attention to the fox.

The light was fading quickly and we knew our guide would arrive any minute and inadvertently scare the bird away. Each time the eagle paused to look up between feeds, a simultaneous volley of shots rang out at 10 frames per second. It was an impressive bird, almost certainly a female judging from its large size (males are much smaller). I took several variations and then turned to filming. The windswept snow looked great as it rushed past the eagle, at times almost obscuring it from view. A second eagle landed briefly behind the first and I hoped that a fight over the food might ensue but instead it retreated to a nearby tree to watch and wait its turn.

The feeding eagle was quickly away as Ole Martin Dahle appeared to collect us but by then the light was dimming quickly. It had been a long and mostly uneventful day, as is often the case when photographing wild eagles that don’t always read the script. Hoping for more action, we returned under the cover of darkness the following morning. It was still freezing cold and blowing hard but the sky was clear. It was like Groundhog Day, at first waiting in the dark trying to catch some sleep, then watching the sun creep slowly down the far hillside and finally lighting up the dead fox. A pair of eagles gave us brief hope as they soared down the valley but by 14.30 the sun had faded from in front of us and no shots had been fired. Then, just like the day before an eagle flew directly in and landed on the fox. There was a tangible holding of breath from all of us inside the hide as the eagle eyed us suspiciously. But it soon relaxed to feed and our memory cards began to fill up. A second eagle put on a good show for us later on as the light turned blue and by the time Ole Martin came to release us from the confines of ‘the box’ we had all well and truly filled out boots.