The Otter Spotter

You are more likely to see an otter today in the UK than ever before, yet their elusive nature still makes them a difficult spot.

- Simon Cooper

My companion made a fairly passable imitation of Edvard Munch’s The Scream when I told her what time we needed to meet for some otter spotting. I’m not sure pre-dawn was what she had in mind, but Imogen was true to her word and we met in the early hours of a May morning, when most sensible people were still in bed.

Given our heroic efforts to beat the arrival of dawn, we had  hoped to be rewarded with decent weather. Instead, it was cold, with the added bonus of a sideways drizzle. We had no choice, however – the two hours before dawn and the two hours after dusk are the best times to spot otters. And it was not as if the British weather was going to deter them. Let’s face it, if you had a coat of waterproof fur that was 200 times denser than the hair on a human head, you’d laugh in the face of a bit of rain.

On the plus side, and in spite of the cloud, the fading moon lit our way across the common, the yellow flag irises, thrusting sedge grasses and buttercups faintly discernible alongside the path. Ahead of us was the bending river – a wide, shallow, silver ribbon – the banks marked with deep, muddy ditches where the cattle come to graze and drink – the name Chilbolton Cow Common is as relevant today as it was in medieval times. 

A SENSE OF SCALE