No more hens

We were heading home down Isaacson Road in Burwell over the weekend when our daughter suddenly became aware of a moorhen (sometimes called marsh hens apparently), ducking and diving in and out of the hedge next to the path. What she hadn't spotted were about a dozen or so moorhen chicks, gamely trying to keep up with their mother and representing a ragged formation more likely to come from Red Bull than the Red Arrows.

At one key point, mum decided they should all cross the road and head into the fields beyond. Unfortunately that message was only partially communicated and not all team members received or understood it. The result was that about ten chicks safely made it - albeit in two stages - but at least two didn't. They were run over by motorists who almost certainly hadn't seen their tiny forms and may not have stopped if they had.

Our daughter was really upset about it, even though she knows it happens all the time (yesterday we also saw a dead badger on the road to Swaffham Prior). She was most upset that, though this particular social network was based on family strength and solidarity, the message still hadn't got through to every member.