Sunrise: 08.00 Sunset: 04.39
A tall willow fell across the Reserve entrance track, at Marsh Farm field gate. The tree was caught up in an elder on the opposite side of the track, at an angle close to 45 degrees, and threatened to fall when someone, or the cattle, passed under it. So I took it down this afternoon.
On removing the large branches, I pulled the trunk to one side of the track, tight to the fence. I had just finished removing the smaller side branches, and was mopping my brow. A voice inside my head said to look behind me. The North marsh fox walked past as brazen as could be, with a dead pigeon gripped tightly in its mouth. He looked up at me as if to ask, Alright mate?
I was stunned! Many times the fox has passed close by with a kill in its mouth, but never close enough to stroke! He walked on down the track as if I was nothing more than a gatepost. I placed my cameras a good distance away to keep them safe from the fallen tree and its branches. He stopped at my pile of kit, sniffed it, and for a second I wondered if he might urinate on it, but he didn’t.
The fox turned up later in the northern corridor, as I shut the North Pond gate. Again, he treated me with disdain: stopping to scratch his ear whilst looking directly at me. I snapped him a dozen or more times.