When I cycle around our country lanes I have more than once been deceived by a field covered in horticultural plastic, shimmering in the sunlight, that from a distance I have mistaken for a sheet of water.
I was up at the allotment early today. It felt like one of those autumnal mornings with a slight crispness in the air and the promise of a fine day ahead. There was a commotion in the sky above me and I looked up to see a crow apparently chasing a much bigger bird away. But the big bird soon returned, and as I watched it circled above me, coming closer and closer to me. Surely I wasn't about to be attacked, I thought. Then I saw that it was in fact a heron. And suddenly it turned around and flew away to the woods beyond the plot. What was this about?
Then I noticed I was standing close to the fleece covering part of the plot next to mine. Could it be that the heron had mistaken this for water, a pond in which it could go fishing, perhaps?
I'm inclined to think so.
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