Feeding frenzy

If I thought pigs were time wasters they are nothing compared to the Rainbow Trout. Even taking into consideration the novelty factor and the worry about getting the water cycle in a rough equilibrium, the pigs are not even in the same league as the fish.

Five times today I have found myself stood around the tank, feeding them, watching them, counting them (like trying to count grains of sand as they pass through an egg timer) feeding them again, recycling the water and photographing them above and below the waterline.

One elderly walker sauntered past and you could see he desperately wanted to know why I was sat on a bucket peering intently into a huge black plastic container, but being British, stiff upper lip and all that he erred on the side of politeness and wished me a good day. Long will he ponder what I was up to. Tracey, my beautiful and oh so patient wife has suggested to aid passers by I should wear a brightly coloured jacket, matching hat, grow a beard and sit with a cane rod on a concrete mushroom.