Country Diary

Much-loved chickens foraging contentedly in the farmyard would normally be safe from predators. That all changed one summer day

should have vanished without leaving a trace. There really wasn’t a single feather left floating in the breeze and it was more than a week before I could confirm their demise. I found a puff of feathers down in the thistles below the house; the remains of a cuckoo maran I knew and loved.

Settling the score