Martin had just returned from leading a mini-safari when the ‘phone rang; “can you organise an otter safari for us this evening please?” Flexibility has always been a given for NEWT; a late summer tour of Southwest Northumberland, birdwatching in the depths of the winter, photographing otters, searching for rare orchids, an impromptu whale and dolphin cruise for a top national journalist. If we can make it happen then we will…

The field full of Greylag Geese were sitting quietly, nibbling away at the grass. Behind them, a Roe Deer was working it’s way slowly along the fence line and three Brown Hares were alternately running across the field and impersonating clods of earth. A few Starlings circled overhead and were soon joined by another small group…and another…and another. Eventually over a thousand were swirling over the reedbeds. The big loose flock suddenly condensed into a tight ball as a Sparrowhawk began pursuing them. A juvenile Marsh Harrier made a brief appearance before dropping into it’s nightime roost site and distant flocks of corvids and Wood Pigeons were sprinkled across the sky like poppy seeds.

Of our main quarry there was no sign; all of the ducks and swans were paddling around calm and contented, so we moved on to site number two. Another set of panic-free wildfowl…and time for a strategic decision; do we wait and hope, or check a site where yesterday afternoon there was so much agitation, and aversion to one corner of a pool, that there had to be a big predator lurking in the reeds?

The decision to move sites was made and we settled to watch a flock of waders. Roosting on a mudflat and seemingly unstressed…but then a wave of panic rippled through the flock. Calm restored, but only for a few seconds, before the worried calling started again. Then a flock of Canada Geese arrived for the evening roost. A few minutes of calm settled over the pool and we watched the sunset; vivid slashes of pink, then orange, cut across the sky and visibility was so good that we could see The Cheviot and Hedgehope, many miles away to the northwest. Then it happened, chaos as all of the geese tried to take off; with only a few metres to the edge of the water they didn’t really have a chance and they stumbled onto the mudflat, scattering Lapwings left, right and centre. Surely, there could only be one cause for the panic? And there it was; diving gracefully through the reflection of the sunset, making a beeline for the geese before changing course and heading away into the deepening shadows of the night. Then it was time for us to do the same.