A short eared owl dogged me at Elmley,
everywhere I went, there it was.
Floating over the sea wall, landing on fence posts, on the ground, feet from my car.
Watching me with a murderous glare, black fans around yellow eyes, set amid plumage the colour of winter reedbeds.
On the ground this bird was a chunk, a hump, a bird hillock
But then it lifted, unrealistic long wings exploding out from its side, and beat away across the sea wall, down to the saltings to hunt the tide line.