Things can only get wetter!

Sometimes the New Forest delivers in bucket loads, other times it don't. This was one of those days. A bright day's bundle around Bishop's Dyke should have been full of 'Attenborough' moments, except it wasn't. In truth it turned out to be a sodden traipse. Apart from five minutes of bliss when a handsome male hen harrier graced the heathland - twisting and turning on a six-pence, handling sudden gusts of wind with consummate assurance in search of prey. All too soon the cameo ended, with a flick of his black wingtips he slipped away over a heather ridge and was gone.

Chosing to ignore the alarm bells going-off in my head, we decided to drop into Soton on the way home. And this leads me to my next life enhancing tip. NEVER, I SAY NEVER go to Southampton on a saturday. It's unwholesome enough going there anyway, but two hours to drive under a mile, only to get to the entrance of the Ikea carpark was beyond bonkers. Then there was the shop itself to contend with. Thank goodness for the harrier that was still flying around in my head, stopping me from going round the bend (well getting round the bend would have been good). All this for a bathmat.

Eventually we arrived back home, only to find a message on the phone asking us to get to Q.A. A&E - which is where we spent most of saturday evening.

Funny ol' day.

Sunday - The boys are back in town.

Sharing the same space.

The day found us back with the harebears - our first visit of the year. To our relief the recent downpours, snow and general malevolent weather hadn't driven them away. Of course they were going to be there, they're hares, they're roughy-toughy (unlike me). The crop had changed (spuds?) and growing fast, but once we got our eyes back-in, we could see that they were occupying the same patches of the field as last year. Six were noted in all, with some indulging in dashing about, but no boxing. Early mornings for us then. 

Overhead two kites soared for prolonged periods, giving superb views and the chance to make some rusty sketches with cold hands. Eventually the flask of hot coffee ran out and it's warming effect gave way to the bitter cold.

The watcher watched