I worked with Chris for a couple of years on Friday mornings at Ranworth. I penned a blog about a particularly fine late summer day we spent together. The words below sum up the day and that season I spent in his company; always cheerful, always interesting, always remembered with great fondness. I'll miss you mate.

' Another fine morning, bright sun, some high wispy cloud, exemplifying the true nature of this tranquil, peaceful place. No sooner had we opened to the public when an osprey flew low over the river channel, a fish clutched tightly in its talons. This long winged autumnal migrant has been around for a few weeks, favouring an area tucked away in the western end of the broad to consume its meals. During the course of the next 3 hours we saw this bird spiral over the visitor centre twice more as it gained height to better scan the waters below for its prey. On both occasions it reappeared after a few minutes with a fresh catch. Testimony to its prowess as a hunter. One day a pair will stay to breed and that will be grand, but for now this single bird is content to idle these pleasantly mild days in a corner of eastern Norfolk. It will stay a while longer until lengthening nights, cooler temperatures, wind and rain trigger the primeval urge to move on. Move south to pastures new, following its brethren to wintering grounds on another continent.
 
Standing chatting to Chris, my colleague, arms resting on the fence rail, steaming tea close at hand, we soaked up the calm. We watched a sailing craft slowly glide along the river channel, saw buzzards, marsh harriers, a hobby and a sparrowhawk effortlessly cruise high overhead, watched a grebe watch us closely with its ruby red eye; simply enjoying the nature that has surrounded us each Friday morning since April. Then it was a raw, sometimes brutally cold vigil, the ravages of winter still clinging to the land. Now things can bask in the soporific balm of an end of season spell of warmth, golden light and ease.'