I had climbed the stile and was halfway up the hill when the covey broke cover. Clucking in alarm, wings whirring, the grey partridges bulleted directly above my head. I ducked and watched them glide over the hedge. It is a long time since I have seen this endangered farmland bird so closely, and for a moment I was frozen in admiration. Grey partridge? Their neck and breast feathers seemed to have struck silver sparks from the January day, their orange heads had glowed like baking terracotta.