4 ochre Whinchats and a m Stonechat crouching on barbed wire in the reed-swishing wind. The Phragmites seed-heads are now at their most glamorous: glossy and imperial purple.
Tiny birds flit from thorn to scarlet thorn, island-hopping across the perilous vastness of the open valley floor. They are often too quick to recognize as they dash across the gaps, but there are Blue Tits, Lesser Whitethroats, a Bullfinch, Chiffchaffs, Goldfinches and reckless Spotted Flycatchers which pause for airborne pirouettes.
A Barn Owl bursts from a creaking Willow. Otherwise â€“ silence, but for the rasp of dry dragonfly wings, the hum of a harvester beyond the hill and the squeak, rattle â€˜nâ€™ roll of the half-hourly Marshlink.