An incredible sky and hardly a breath of wind to stir the corn, the only sound the song of the skylarks. By the time evening comes round the wheat in the photograph will have been harvested and the field will be covered in stubble ready to be ploughed for the next crop. Meanwhile the wood pigeons and sparrows swoop in to land hoping to find easy pickings amongst the few spilt ears of wheat whilst the farmers eyes are otherwise occupied watching the combine not the woodies down the barrel of a gun.
A little higher in the sky our two resident sparrowhawks patrol looking for a different kind of meal.
In your imagination you can hear the Wright Cyclones firing up or is it the sound of a ghost B17 misfiring and drifting in to land…
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