The today after I saw the beaver, a even more special encounter..
I saw two otters at a distance, swimming, diving, and apparently fishing. I swiftly headed in their direction, towards a spot which they often use in the wintertime, and just before I reached it I glimpsed one, through the trees, hauled up on a rock devouring a fish. There was a space between two branches at knee height, so I crouched down, slowly, and took these pictures.
It was in deep shade, with the sunlit water at its back, but the photos I hope still give a sense of its pleasure in the meal, and the power of its jaws.
I think it sensed my presence, but it was hungry, so it finished its meal:
The fish, I am told, is a hornpout, another name for the Brown Bullhead, a type of catfish.
In maybe six years of watching otters on this pond, I have never before seen one out of the water eating a fish close by. St. Cuthbert, the patron saint of otters, was watching over me. *
PS St. Cuthbert was a 7th century Northumbrian monk. The historian Bede tells that Cuthbert used to pray standing waist-deep in the freezing North Sea, and the otters used to come and lie on his feet to warm them, then dry them with their soft fur.
Eyes on the Wild 