Atop Bignor Hill this morning, in a moderate wind and brief spells of sunshine, I stopped briefly to enquire with two farm hands about a sheep lying dead in their truck. It had died through the night, perhaps as a result of a dog attack. After offering my condolences, I pressed on up to the masts, noting 4 Stonechat along the path, the farm hands now busy chasing the remaining extant sheep around a field, horns beeping as they went. I found myself amidst a flock of tits, amongst which were Goldcrest, Chaffinch, Nuthatch and Marsh Tit. Despite this promising start, however, there was little else about on the walk around. Of note were a handful of House Martins and Swallows, and two each of Raven, Buzzard and Red Kite, the latter I watched sparring from the car park before I left.