If you can pick the bones of that, you’re a better … than I am G… D…!!
Amazingly, we’re almost back at Sevenoaks Fishery – almost an adjacent property, but this time it is a serious ‘territorial’ dispute. It’s that time of year when Dad is clearing the decks for the next breeding season, and in this case Sid, as he is known, is very serious. There are still three of last years cygnets around, and we have to assume our focus today is on the last of the male babies; he’s be driven maybe 75 metres up the feeder stream, which flows through moderately dense woodland which allows him no prospect of flying out, and Sid certainly won’t allow him back onto the lake. So, a team of three split either side of the stream, armed with nets and crooks actually gave him little hope of not being captured and removed from very immediate danger. As soon as we had recovered from our exertions, assisted by a most excellent cup of coffee, we made our way to the Knap at Barry and let him go – there was the odd backward glance, but certainly no thanks, but that’s normal.
Oh! And by the way, while all this was going on, the phone refused to stop ringing – three calls, including two about an ailing swan in the lock on the River Thames at Lechlade, which fortunately we were able to delegate to a more local rescuer.