Under a leaden overcast sky the cold air wraps its damp tendrils around every exposed bit of my skin. Jays are making their way across open ground between the plantations with a stuttering flight, white rumps flashing in the gloom, and a Woodcock heads out as the unseen sun dips below the horizon. A last good feed of the day for Coal, Blue, Great and Willow Tits is on offer at a makeshift feeding station as I start scanning the hedgerow along the southern edge of a field of verdant green with new growth. In the distance a lump breaking the gentle undulations of the field isn’t straightforward to identify in the half-light. Moving along the hedgerow a few metres at time I get close enough to identify it as a Red Fox. Closer still and I get a great view as he stands up and has a good stretch. Now awake, he trots along for a few seconds and then sits, gazing intently around him. I move through the hedge and watch him from a well concealed position and then parallel his movements, stopping regularly to watch what he’s doing. By the time he eventually disappears through a hedge and into a small plantation 45mins have passed and I make my way home along dark paths wrapped in the scent and sound of the woods at dusk.