In the quiet countryside of Caistor St Edmund, Norfolk, recent weeks have felt unusually strange, not least due to my father's hospitalisation. On the farm, we strive to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but the outside world has presented its own peculiarities. For instance, three oystercatchers were spotted on the cut grass of the Norfolk Showground event venue, their vibrant orange beaks flashing like neon as they searched for earthworms. Unlike many waders, oystercatchers often nest in odd locations such as rooftops or roundabouts to protect their young, yet finding them here, surrounded by a dual carriageway, was a genuine surprise. From his hospital bed, my father reminded me that the River Yare flows nearby, perhaps explaining their presence.
An Unexpected and Disturbing Scene
Another day brought another anomaly. While driving down a lane with a car full of teenage girls, one of them noticed horses behaving oddly in a paddock. We stopped to investigate, a decision I quickly regretted. The herd had loosely gathered around an adult roe deer lying on the ground. Initially, I thought it was dead, but then it attempted to stand, likely injured on the road before staggering into the horses' enclosure.
Aggression Unleashed
The black mare in the group clearly did not want the deer there. She bit at its neck, pinning it down and sending tufts of pale fur flying into the air. As the deer writhed in a desperate attempt to escape, the mare pummelled it with both front hooves. The other horses circled nervously, their tension palpable. Each time they approached, the mare chased them off aggressively, with her ears back and teeth bared, asserting her dominance.
Believing I could intervene and save the deer, I climbed through the fence, shouting and swinging my arms to make myself appear larger and more threatening. However, I was no match for the mare's ferocity. She lunged at me with clear intent, forcing me to retreat. The brutal scene continued until, with palpable relief, the deer succumbed to its injuries and died.
A Stark Reminder of Nature's Wildness
This was an incident I had never witnessed before. It was most likely an expression of territorial aggression; as prey animals, horses typically flee from threats, but in this case, the mare's instinct to protect her space overrode any tamed behaviour. This serves as a powerful reminder that even the sweetest of animals, which we often consider fully domesticated, can retain a wild and unknowable essence. The horse-loving girls watching silently from behind the fence received a sobering lesson in the complexities of animal nature.
Return to Normalcy
Back at the farm, a welcome burst of normality arrived as fifteen swallows clustered together, right on schedule for their seasonal migration. My father also returned home after a successful quadruple heart bypass surgery, much to the delight of his terrier, Rat. He insists he will slow down, but farmers are notoriously poor at retiring, often finding new ways to stay active and engaged with the land.
