The scrubby grass and weeds provided little in the way of cover, but I was confident my camouflage clothing, low position and slow movements would provide all the concealment I needed, and a face veil, cap and gloves made sure my pale skin wouldn’t give me away.
With those preparations made, there was nothing to do but wait for the rabbits to fulfil their side of the bargain. Though dry, the ground was cool beneath me, but the late afternoon sun was warm on my back.
I wriggled a little to get comfortable, all the familiar aches and discomforts that are part and parcel of ambushing coming back to me, and watched the shadows inch along the field as the sun gave up for the day.
The insects buzzed and my eye was forever tormented by flashes of movement in the hedgerow that turned out to be birds. At last, a rabbit materialised from the bushes – hopping onto the edge of the field, sniffing the air to check the coast was clear.
It was only a few yards to the left of directly in front of me, a full-grown adult. I froze for a moment or two, not wanting to spook what was likely to be my only chance of the short session, and the rabbit visibly relaxed, dropping its nose to the ground and conveniently turning sideways to me.