It has been a strange few weeks, not least because my father is in hospital. On the farm, we are all trying to carry on as normal. Outside, too, has seemed peculiar: three oystercatchers on the cut grass of the Norfolk Showground event venue, their orange beaks flashing neon as they probed for earthworms. Unlike many waders, oystercatchers can nest in peculiar places such as rooftops or roundabouts, as extra protection for their young. Still, to find them here, hemmed in by a dual carriageway, is a surprise. My father reminds me, from his hospital bed, that the River Yare is close.
Another day, another anomaly. I was driving down the lane, a car full of teenage girls, when one of them noticed some horses behaving oddly. We stopped to investigate. I quickly wished we had not. The herd had gathered loosely around an adult roe deer on the ground. At first I thought it was dead, but then it tried to stand. It must have been injured on the road and staggered into their paddock. The black mare did not want it there, though. She bit at its neck, pinning it down and sending tufts of pale fur flying up.
As the deer writhed to escape, the mare pummelled it with both front hooves. The other horses circled, tension rising. Every time they approached, the mare chased them off, ears back, teeth bared. I reckoned I could save it. I climbed through the fence and began to shout, swinging my arms around, trying to make myself big. But I could not match her. She lunged at me, and she meant it. I retreated. The brutal scene unfolded until — what palpable relief — the deer was dead.
It was something I had never seen before. It was most likely territorial aggression — as prey animals, the horses flee at any sign of threat. It was a reminder that these sweetest of animals, which we consider tamed, can still be wild and unknowable, providing a useful lesson to the horse-loving girls watching silently from behind the fence.
Back at the farm, a welcome burst of normality, as 15 swallows arrived in a cluster, right on schedule. My father returned home too, quadruple heart bypass successful, to the delight of his terrier, Rat. He says he is going to slow down, but farmers are not very good at retiring.
