Experience the sight and sound of a wild goose flight for the first time.

The air is still, but bitterly cold, and the only sound for miles is from my long deep breaths. I look through the camouflaged netting that surrounds me and see a bright pink line rising above the Sidlaw hills to the north. It illuminates the far away skyline and casts a reflective glare over the Eden estuary below. I crouch down into the gooey earth that is to provide the enticement for today's quarry, and wait for the distinctive cackle from above...

Today I am joining Lee Robb – Scotland's Premier Goose Guide – at Easter Kincaple Farm, in Fife, for a morning of wild goose shooting. The farm is situated across the road from the world's most famous golf resort, The Old Course in St. Andrews – which is to host the British Open Golf Championship in 2010.

There is no glitz and glamour associated with our party though. In fact, the eight guns standing in front of me look more like escaped convicts than famous sporting stars, with their balaclavas, Realtree designed camouflage gear and semi automatic shotguns.

Anyway, It's not about appearances. It's about connecting with the natural world and hoping to spot some of the 60,000 skein's of pink footed geese that migrate from Iceland, to this eastern point in Scotland, each winter.

Throughout the months of September to January the geese lodge further up the coast in an area known as the Montrose Basin, which is situated between the cities of Dundee and Aberdeen.

During the day the geese fly far and wide in search of nourishment. They flock to a variety of stubble, potato and uncut barley fields for breakfast and afternoon tea before heading back to their sheltered resting place in the evening.

Part of Lee's job involves carrying out a recce of the 100,000 acres of local farmland that he has exclusive access to. This way Lee can establish where the most popular feeding areas are, to ensure he takes groups of shooters to the most lucrative spots.

When the whereabouts of the geese have been attained, Lee can then search for sheltered areas that would be suitable for setting up hides.

It was after a lengthy spell of reconnaissance on Sunday evening that I got a phone call from Lee, who informed me that I was to arrive at the stated venue by 7 am the next day to have a chance of a successful mornings flight.

...This is why I am now sitting in a makeshift hide, lined up against a thick hedgerow, waiting for the darkness to disappear and the geese to fly in.

Lee has just finished building another hide a few meters to the left of me, where the other members of today's party are stationed. The hide is around 3 meters long and is made up of camouflaged netting, which is held in place by an assortment of green poles – costing £10 each apparently.

Lee has also strategically placed around thirty paper and plastic decoys on the surface of the potato field, about 30 yards in front of us.

The decoys are so life like, with their soft grey veneer and long arched necks, that I can see why the geese get confused and mistake them for real birds.

It's 8 am now and all we have to do is wait.

Lee joins me in the hide.

"The first skein of geese are coming towards us Melissa," Lee says, " So get your camera at the ready."

I peep through the netting again and, true enough, there are two lines of black specs flying in our direction. All of a sudden the air is filled with a repetitive cackling sound.

The noise gets louder and louder as the geese get closer. It's like 'honk' 'honk', 'honk' 'honk'...I crane my neck upwards to watch them fly over my head and try to take a few shots with the camera. By the time I adjust my manual settings though, the geese are long gone.

"Well, those geese are on a mission, aren't they!" Lee says as we both break into laughter.

Apparently they are flying too high and fast to be interested in feeding here, so who knows where they are going.

I watch their distinctive 'V' shape floating through the air in the distance and ask Lee why they fly that way:

"Geese are like an army, Lee tells me. "Everything they do is regimented, and that includes their flight pattern."

"One of the reasons they fly in a 'V' shape is so that each member of the skein has a go at being the lead goose. It's a tiring job, as the lead goose has to dictate the pace and fly slightly ahead of the skein, to keep an eye out for areas to stop and feed. When the lead goose needs a break it drops to the back of the line and another goose takes charge. This means that the geese can fly for a longer period of time without stopping."

"Perfect for the 798 mile flight from Iceland to Scotland then!" I say in reply.

Our conversation is disturbed by the loud cackling sound of two geese. Lee taps me on the shoulder and indicates that I must stay low and not look upwards. If these geese – who are known as 'scouts' – see my face they will detect danger and prevent the skein from landing here.

The geese are circling the area where the decoys are laid out in front of us, so that they can determine whether the field is safe or not.

Lee takes out his whistle and starts mimicking the goose call. The geese answer back and the three of them converse in this manner for what seems like ages. Then there is silence. We stay still, and quiet, and wait while the 'scouts' report back to the lead goose.

Suddenly the sky comes alive. It sounds like there are hundreds of geese flying over our heads. I feel like I could jump up and touch them they seem that close.

Lee shouts across to the next hide, as the geese swoop down towards the decoys:

"They're in range boys. Shoot."

I turn to my left and see eight shotgun barrels rising upwards from the hide. The 'honk,' 'honk,' sound is interspersed with 'bang,' 'bang.' My head starts to throb from this loud succession of birdcalls and gunfire.

Lee's clients, with their 10-bore semi-automatics, bring down two geese. The other six members of the party keep firing, but to no avail, as the geese soar another 100 yards towards the clouds and become out of range.

"That was a poor show," Lee shouts. "You could have bagged five geese each from that skein!"

The boys laugh and start making excuses for missing.

Lee leaves them to it and exits the hide to pick up the dead geese, which are scattered between the decoys.

I accompany Lee and use this opportunity to ask him for more information about his job as a goose guide.

"Throughout the season I work every day of the week. I take out parties of two to eight guns for full or split week periods," Lee says. " Clients either arrive on the Sunday and stay until the following Saturday, which means they have six mornings of goose shooting, or, they arrive on a Sunday evening and stay until after breakfast on Wednesday, which gives them three mornings of goose shooting. Then a new group comes on Wednesday evening and stays until Sunday morning."

"Also, in the evenings we shoot ducks, as this is often part of the package, so my free time is very limited!"

I'm impressed. I certainly couldn't get up at 4 am every morning, for four months, and spend the majority of the day stuck in a freezing cold hide!

Lee spots another skein of geese flying in our direction. We walk briskly towards the hide, carrying the two dead geese, and crouch down out of sight.

The skein is flying relatively low as they make their way across our heads and before the two 'scouts' can break away and patrol the area, a shot is fired from the hide next to us.

A goose drops from the sky and lands in the waterlogged field. The rest of the skein fly high and fast, hoping to escape any further shots.

All that can be heard now is a successive roar of swearing.

"What the f***!" shouts one gun.

"Why couldn't you have just waited," shouts another.

Lee looks towards the hide containing this stirred up group of shooters and shakes his head.

"You should have waited," Lee says to the culprit.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just got so excited when I saw them come in that close," the culprit replies.

We watch on as the group debate the issue in a lively manner.

Five minutes later and laughter is heard.

Apparently this was the culprits first time shooting geese and his natural instinct to lift the gun and pull the trigger just took over when he noticed the skein flying so low. Anyway, all is forgiven now.

Lee goes to fetch goose number three.

It's 9.30 am now, so we only have another half an hour to go before packing up, as it's just getting too light now and the geese are going to spot us a mile away.

There is calmness in the air again as everyone shelters behind the camouflage netting, praying that another skein will fly over before its time to go.

We wait, and wait, and wait...but nothing can be seen or heard.

Then, just as we are about to call it a day, the sound of a lone goose draws near. Is it the scout? We crouch with baited breath.

The cackling noise is somehow different this time though. The goose doesn't seem to be scanning the area hoping to converse with the decoys – or should I say, what it suspects is a gaggle of geese feasting on the potato field in front of us – it just seems lost.

Maybe it was the goose's distressed call, or maybe the guns were being overly cautious after the last incident, and didn't want to be the first to fire. Either way, no one shoots it.

The lone goose flutters its wings before our eyes, then lands a few yards away from the decoys.

The guns, including Lee and I, are mesmerized. The lone goose stands still like a statue on the field’s horizon and proceeds to stay rooted to this muddy spot for quite a while.

It's after ten now and we all know that there will be no more shooting today. But no one seems to care. I think everyone feels a pang of sorrow for this lone goose, well I know I do – I want it to find its friends.

We all rise up out of the hides and the lone goose watches us intently for a few minutes before soaring of into the clouds.

Everyone watches it flying solo across the Eden estuary towards Tentsmuir forest and Kinshaldy beach.

It's a once in a lifetime moment, and one that I think we will all treasure.

Back to reality. I help Lee dissemble our hide and ask him what he thinks of today's shooting:

"You know, I always tell prospective clients that the best thing about goose shooting is experiencing the sight and sound of these intelligent birds," Lee says.

"You should only shoot as many as you can eat and the rest of the morning should be spent doing what you did, observing them fly in over the decoys. Well, that's what gets me going anyway, as it's quite a sight!"

I would have to agree. As the guns are put back into their gun slips, and the decoys are collected and stored away in their green carry case, I look out towards the Eden estuary and feel lucky to have made it out of bed at such an early hour.

The day is just beginning, but it feels like I've experienced more in these three hours than I normally do in a whole day.

It's probably because time stands still when you are in a hide, and because you are forced to be alert waiting on the geese fly over, you become more aware of things – like the changes of light, the weather, the scenery and of course the wildlife, i.e. the geese.

It's time to head back to the convoy of 4 x 4 pick-ups, which are parked to the rear of Easter Kincaple farmhouse.

The shooting party is in buoyant spirits. They have enjoyed an interesting flight and are now longing for their full fry up for breakfast, which is de rigueur on shoot days apparently.

And me? Well, I enjoyed the sight and sound so much that I'm seriously contemplating booking a mornings goose shooting next season.

It may be a different crowd from the tweed brigade that I normally go out shooting with, but I would say this group of shooters and guides are more interested in the wildlife than the social etiquette of the day, which makes it a tad more interesting.

So, I don't know about you, but I think there will be goose on my Christmas menu this year, and it will be one that I've shot myself.