I didn’t plan to take wildlife photos that day. It was just a slow recovery walk after a few harder bike workouts — the kind of quiet stroll I sometimes take around the outskirts of my town. The fields there look almost empty at this time of year — ploughed soil, cold air, a touch of wind, and that late-autumn stillness that feels like everything is already waiting for winter. Even though it’s only a few hundred metres from my house, once you step off the road it becomes a surprisingly quiet, open space, wrapped in the soft, earthy smell of damp soil and the faint rustle of dry plants.