Where does all the time go?
Where does all the time go?! I was up at five this morning (lots to do - it's Day One) and I don't seem to have had a minute all day to catch my breath. I'm writing this and it's already nearly five in the afternoon and our main rehearsal is about to start. Where did those 12 hours go?
There is an amazing sense of excitement buzzing around our production village right now as we all realise we are about to reveal the new home of Springwatch to an expectant audience who are already warming up on our messageboards.
As ever, every one of the over 100-strong team is being calm, focussed and professional, but so many people have just a little more twinkle in their eye and quite literally a spring in their step.
All going well, so far. Famous last words? Well, we get used to saying things like "so far" because the one thing we know is always the same is that no spring is ever the same - and no Springwatch is ever the same. Nature writes the script on this show, and she's keeping us on our toes already.
First the weather. Gone is the lovely near-June calm weather from last week go. Now it's blustery and chilly and we're wondering what vital piece of equipment might get blown down in a sudden gust. Will we get on air? Will Springwatch look and feel like spring? Find out at the same time as me - as we go live at 8pm tonight.
Our animal stars have been giving us the run around already, in and out of our first show's running order like yo-yos. We've had headline beautiful blackbird families killed overnight by unknown predators and a little ringed plover who looked like she had deserted the nest... and then came back again. I don't think I've ever known the wildlife stories to be so fluid and unpredictable. But that's what makes Springwatch the most unusual - and most exciting - job in broadcasting.
Even the crew have already had their own share of mishaps and challenges. The simplest of things - in this case a set of keys and a chef's spoon - can suddenly have a profound effect on this huge operation.
Our lead Producer in the Simon King team, Stuart, forgot to leave hotel keys out for his Assistant Producer Ben who was returning late to base. So poor Ben spent a night curled up in the back of a land rover. We've all done it!
On a more serious note, David, our Live Director, the man who literally calls the shots from our high tech "mission control" live production gallery, must have suffered from a mix up of spoons in the kitchen of the restaurant he ate in. He ended up spending Saturday night in hospital recovering from a full anaphylactic shock allergic reaction to a trace of shellfish.
I am delighted to say that David had excellent medical care and is now right as rain, but it did give us all one hell of a shock and made us all ask "what if?" Again, this could happen to any of us, but when it happens on Springwatch, the repercussions are potentially huge, and very complex.
Although I am a little nervous, I am also excited to see us go live in two and a half hours from now as I write. It's amazing to see so many people working so tirelessly and selflessly to come together in the moment of magic that is live wildlife television. I have seen this happen over 60 times, but it still gives me a tingle down my spine and a tear in my eye when we get the count from BBC Two and we know we're "on".