Snipe

In the distance, across the fields of stubble, five crows were making their presence known by raucous calls. My binoculars revealed a group of six magpies grouped amongst them. They took a long time to disperse as I approached, and I guessed that they must be upon some carrion.
I was not wrong in my surmise, but was surprised to see a small snipe on the ground.
This was the first time I had been able to appreciate the true beauty of a snipe. The first thing I saw was a flurry of feathers and assumed this was a dead cock pheasant. There was no evidence of cause of death and the corvids attentions had been only on the gizzard, the mottled browns and reds of the bird's plumage were therefore in perfect order. With open eyes, the snipe looked for all the world as if it could fly up and spiral away from me, but sadly, that would not happen.
I was left bewildered by the fact that people could shoot for sport such a magnificent bird that offered nothing in the way of food.