Mallard in the flood

As a tiny brook turns into a raging torrent with the winter rains, it gives Goldeneye and his shooting partner a glorious opportunity at the duck

- SARAH FARNSWORTH

During the summer months the small meadow beside the tiny brook at the bottom of the narrow valley is perfectly dry except for one or two damp patches where rushes grow and the grass is a lusher green.

Along the meadowside edge of the brook the tall, pink-flowering, willowherb grows, while a row of pollarded willows border the other bank. The brook itself is mainly spring-fed, being the amalgamation of two smaller brooklets a short distance upstream. For most of the year you could walk along this brook without seeing a duck of any description. What a transformation takes place, however, after a spell of prolonged rainfall during autumn or winter. As the soil of the fields on the slopes of the small valley becomes saturated, the water drains off quickly to augment the normal flow of the brook.

What was once shallow clear water becomes a muddy-brown torrent, with small branches and other flotsam swirling in the current. Before long it rises enough to flow into a ditch — which normally drains into the brook — and from here it creeps out on to the meadow. In places it may be two, three or more feet deep, but the majority of the flood is only a few inches deep, with tussocks of grass showing above the surface.

Almost overnight there will be snipe in residence. They love to rest by day among tufts of coarse grass. When disturbed they will get up singly or in small wisps, ‘scaaping’ loudly as they zigzag skywards. After a few minutes, several will return, plummeting straight down among waterlogged cover without any warning. At dusk, if undisturbed, they flight out to feed further along the valley and at a nearby sewage farm.