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An individual, of no great importance, who is unable to see the natural world as a place for competition. I catch fish, watch birds, derive immense pleasure from simply looking at butterflies, moths, bumble-bees, etc - without the need for rules! I am Dylan and this is my blog - if my opinions offend? Don't bother logging on again - simple!

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Tuesday, 9 October 2018

Mushrooms, magic and a jerk!

On Sunday morning I drove across to visit my daughter and her family in a stunning little village tucked away in the East Kent backwaters. Well off the main thoroughfares, it is a wonderful, serene, environment in which my three grandchildren are growing up. The estate, in which their home is situated, is a magnificent mix of deciduous woodland and open pasture, interspersed with arable fields, surrounded by game crop. It is a hugely successful commercial pheasant shoot, yet the spin off for so much other wildlife is blatantly obvious to anyone who visits.




The morning was all about the kids, Bryn, Evelyn and Rowan who, accompanied by Sarah, came out on a walk to see what we could find. The two boys were soon off doing their thing with sticks and puddles, Evelyn, however, was looking for Fairy houses and dinosaur footprints - she found loads, such is the uncluttered imagination of the innocent. I found myself immersed in this world, the first sign of fairies is, after all, mushrooms! Evelyn was soon showing me plants that I'd never even looked at, all very strange having someone so young enthusiastically sharing her world of wonder. I clicked away merrily with the camera as we walked and chatted about the world as viewed through the eyes of a five year old! There were lots of Redwings in the woodland, scattering as we approached and an obvious passage of Siskin was occurring overhead, as birds called regularly above the canopy. Four Common Buzzards, two Sparrowhawk and a nice array of woodland species were recorded on our travels as we made our way to Fairy HQ - an old ice house stuck out in a secluded dell a few hundred yards from the "big house"

Common Buzzard over the woodlands
The Ice House - Fairy HQ and a place of enchantment for Evelyn
Sadly the shine was somewhat knocked off the experience by my meeting with a gamekeeper. Obviously in need of a PR assistant, he must be very good at his job, as the estate is testament to the incredible hard work that the team put in over the course of a year. I had a pair of binoculars around my neck, and a camera slung over my shoulder; maybe this was all he required to instantly recognise me as an "anti"? I was going to say what a superb job he (& the team) was doing but his instant rebuff was so rude I couldn't be bothered. Obviously a well balanced chap - a chip on each shoulder, I'd quite like to meet him in a pub, now that would get interesting - hey ho, takes all sorts!


7 comments:

  1. Unfortunately there are always those from both sides of the fence that make instant assumptions when encountering each other and it does neither of their pursuits any favours. A delightful read though and the simplistic views of children on life can often put us old'ns to shame.

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    1. Thanks Derek, my over-riding memories are of the simple enjoyment of innocent eyes, seeing things which us cynics are totally oblivious to. The miserable twat was just that - a miserable twat and, in my experience, no way typical of his profession! All the best - Dyl

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  2. My erstwhile companion Two Terriers John Richardson has a neat line in an interesting meeting in a pub....

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    1. BB, having worked on the factory floor for over forty years, I've got one or two of my own when needs arise. My reference to a pub is because I am far more comfortable in that environment than I was out in the woods - which was his territory! Shame he tainted such a pleasant morning with his lack of manners. Still, no one died - so move on!

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  3. Dylan, I imagine your appearance gave the guy the idea that you were a relative of that Swampy character.

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  4. Dyl, this is the facebook era. The cover is about as far as many people get.

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