Then we were guided on foot into a magical world. Not only of bluebells, swathes of wild garlic were an unexpected bonus.
We had stepped, legitimately, into the territory of the local gamekeeper. He was hovering protectively beside his pheasant enclosure. Hazel stick in hand and with the air of a disgruntled hedgehog he was keeping a watchful eye.
Now I can’t imagine anyone wanting to disturb his birds’ eggs, can you?