I know I said that you wouldn’t get any of that flying rubbish from me and that we were going to be down to earth from now on. Well, here’s the first of the exceptions that prove that rule. You see, it was such a nice day – sometime in the middle of the week, I think – and he and I decided, when we came to the level crossing, that we might as well go all the way round. All the way round is about three miles – and between my interests and his we can usually stretch it to a bit more than an hour.
Up the hill we went then, as we came down to the bottom of the other side, we could hear a couple of those silly Buzzards whining and mewing up in the air. Really, would I expect to catch anything if I spent my time barking? We did however, stop to watch them flying round high up in the air. The verge is actually quite broad at this point so I took advantage of his preoccupation to do a little investigating of my own.
The Buzzards swooped and soared, then, with nothing better to do, one of them floated over and sat on a fence post. We walked a little further, keeping an eye on him. Just as we found a place with a clear view, the bird drifted off the post and with no overt enthusiasm landed in the field. This was not a swoop and absolutely nothing like a pounce – more of a flop I’d say.
Then he just sat there – trying to look as if he didn’t mean to catch anything anyway.