I've only been back from the States a few days, but having dived head-first back into survey work (all over the place - see next post) it seems like a month has passed since I was sat on the red-eye back from Boston. But, in line with work-related posts on here over many years now, you'll hear no complaints from me.
This morning was a fine example. Up at stupid o'clock, a long and easy drive to a distant spot in the North York Moors and on site for dawn, it was about as paradisiacal as it gets: a bucolic setting gradually bathed in sunshine, bursting with birdsong, and scant direct evidence of humanity.
Opening the car door, I'd had the pleasure of drumming Snipe dog-fighting over my head, and then a very drowsy Tawny Owl sat in the open, not giving a h*** about my presence; several hours later and I'd innumerable experiences to clear the cluttered mind and reset the malfunctioning algorithms.
It's not always so idyllic, of course - a twelve-hour day yesterday included a near collision with a suicidal white van man and being trapped on the Humber Bridge for an eternity - but it's often at least partially so, and in these difficult times, I appreciate my various wildlife-related work roles even more than ever.