the grass is always greener

Today was my penultimate day on the Nene Washes and as the Corncrake Reintroduction Programme Assistant 2013.

I was driving down the drove, leaving the reserve, when I came upon four cheeky horses trotting along, like they knew exactly where they were going. Traveller’s horses. They had all escaped from field one. A titchy field, hardly a field really, with a bit of a bank. How they have been surviving on the nearly bare ground, heaven knows. Clearly they’d had enough of the situation.

I couldn’t drive behind them, as that would probably scare them on to the busy fast road. So I turned around and headed as fast as I could (with the back of the pickup ram packed full of tables and debris bouncing with every pot-hole) to the other exit. My plan was to meet them from the other direction, to stop them nearing the hazardous road. Alas, they were already on the other side of the road, munching on long, healthy, green, green grass. Looking chuffed to bits.

I popped the hazard lights on, and phoned for backup.

For two hours Lizzie, myself, and a lovely horse-owning girl who pulled over to help, coaxed, and pushed, and petted, and fed, and befriended, and herded these three adult horses and foal. In the pouring relentless rain. Back across the road, down a track, through woodlands, across ditches, down the drove, and finally in to a freshly hay-cut field – where we firmly fastened the gate.

During this time, we were constantly updated. The owners will be there to collect them soon, they are on their way. Ditto. Ditto. Ditto. Ditto.

They never did turn up. But I am a great believer in things happening for a reason. These bonnie four will be remaining in this very lovely and large, with fast growing grass, field for the foreseeable future. For a small fee paid to the RSPB.

Those four horses wished for something better, and they made it happen.

Advertisements

About Olivia N Masi

From art college drop-out, to office space-planner, to back-packer, to air stewardess, to brolly babe, to model agent, to wildlife conservationist. How? I've always believed in jumping at every opportunity that comes my way. This has taken me along some bizarre career paths. None of which I regret. I have been to amazing places and met fascinating people. And having worked in the motor sport industry I've sadly experienced too many beloved friends take one adrenalin step too many. I think of them always. I've hung out with pop-stars, sports personalities, and millionaires. I reached a point when nothing but VIP would do. And then something happened. My pops passed away and I felt the need to reconnect with my Italian side. Whilst in Italy, I learnt to be resourceful, to recycle everything, to listen to the valley, to grow my own veg, to catch and tame feral cats, and to follow my heart. My heart led me to a desire to save this beautiful Earth, and all the wonderful life upon it. And so I read, and then I studied with the Open University. I suddenly found myself accepted on a BSc in Wildlife Conservation, having left school with pitiful qualifications. So here I am. A qualified Wildlife Conservationist. A scientist I suppose. I love nothing more than to listen to birdsong, and watch, learn and photograph wildlife. So here is to me getting the perfect job where I can contribute to saving one of Earth's beautiful species. Do I miss the glamour of the old life? The VIP lifestyle? The petrol-head adrenalin? The buzz of being a successful business owner? Only occasionally. Though it seems more like the distant dreams of a previous life.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s