It's a great hobby

Arm improving but still no photography. I don't want to jeopardise the progress.

I have been in rural Hampshire this week, at The Four Seasons Dogmersfield to be precise. This hotel stood out for various reasons. It had, without doubt, the best service I have encountered in many a long year. From arrival to departure everything was just perfect. It helps that it is in the most glorious setting. Several hundred acres of rolling country, made glorious by the refusal of planning permission to add a golf course. Bad luck for The 4 Seasons but great for nature. I met a planner the other day, whose card said "environmentally friendly golf course design". Crap. And crap again. No such thing. Anyway, I digress.

On the first morning I arrived fresh from the 5am Cathay Pacific landing at LHR (not an immigration officer to be seen as I arrived at passport control....) and after a shower in the hotel spa I went for a walk. House martins. Everywhere. Chirruping merrily away, white rumps flashing by and then suddenly - swoosh. A hobby in full flight. If you don't know what a hobby looks like, shame for you. They are very sexy little falcons. And seeing one for the first time since I left Britain in late 2004 was a reminder of why sometimes, just sometimes, I have an urge to return. Then Jackdaws flew out from a pine tree. I love the sound of happy Jackdaws, chacking away. Very uplifting. On the lawns, Green woodpeckers. Several of them. Quite tame and not at all skittish. Oh for a camera. Their old name is the yaffle. A laughing call. Very fitting, and I heard it many times in just 2 days.

A stroll through the walled garden and a Song thrush, newly fledged, sitting high on the wall. Oblivious to me. And then, sorry girls, half a fluffy bunny. I've no idea where the front half went. Maybe down a fox's throat? But the scut and rear legs were all that was left. I like the word "scut". It reminds me of Romany, whose books I had as a child. I'm sure in "Out with Romany again" there was a chapter on Scut the rabbit. I mentioned it to George at the front door and he meandered off to move it before anybody took fright.

A colleague returning from an early run was subjected to my tale of the hobby. He informed me had run along the canal and seen a crane. As there was no construction on site and I was talking birds I concluded he had seen a heron. George concurred.

And so passed 2 pleasant days of conferencing. I learned to fence (for 4 hours) as part of an exercise in improving our focus. Well yes, you do focus when someone is charging at you with a sword (foil) but it has never yet happened in the office. I was however happy to focus on the hobby. Oh to be in England........... even if it is July not April. Happy days.