I had a simply amazing morning today.

I had dropped off daughter and son No.1 at school and was taking son No.2 back to the car, when we decided to play Pooh-sticks at a little bridge just down the road from the school. As we leant over the side of the bridge something swam out from underneath us. I was speechless for a couple of seconds before my brain could work out what it was I was seeing.

It was an otter! Broad daylight, bold as brass. The river is only about a foot deep - a burn would be a better description. He (or perhaps she) paddled upstream a bit, and as we ran along the pavement to catch up, did an about turn and paddled back again. A few minutes later, he did another about-turn and headed back upstream. He hid under another bridge for a short time and then crept out, much to the delight of the crowd of toddlers who had were by now watching from above. He eyed the children for a couple of seconds - just a little cockily, I thought - then he headed off upstream and disappeared into the undergrowth.

What a wonderful experience. Reminds me why I spurn the delights of big city living.