Stealing a March on a mini monster

Now is the ideal time to stalk our smallest deer species — it may be diminutive, but in ever-growing numbers muntjac can do a considerable amount of damage

- SAM CARLISLE

As dawn breaks, a lapwing starts its undulating courtship call, trying to summon a mate across the Breckland soil. The tops of the trees rustle violently. The wind chills me to the bone; the warmth of my bed is but a distant memory. I am here to do a job; protect the emerging flora in our woodlands by culling muntjac. Given the weather, I am not hopeful.

The end of March can deceive the optimist. It offers the most delightful of days as hawthorn leaves unfurl in the brightest green, blackthorn hedges burst into clouds of downy blossom and brimstone butterflies flutter around bramble patches, flaunting themselves in the first rays of warmth. Then a north wind blows, the hailstones clatter and February fill-dyke returns for an unexpected and unwelcome visit.

Named after the Roman god of war, Mars, March was when the Roman army would restart its military campaigns after a winter break. For the lowland deer manager, it is perhaps the most crucial month to have boots on the ground, especially when it comes to controlling muntjac.

These small deer are the most fairweather of all the six species that live wild in Britain. A wet and blustery day will restrict their movement, as they couch up as close as possible to a food source. On a warm and still evening, though, they will wander around their patch, contentedly browsing. A month of contrasts, during March you need to be flexible and make the most of kind conditions.