I knew my 12-year-old daughter was keen to start the day when I found her dressed in waterproofs and wellies at 6am. This was an enthusiasm usually reserved for birthdays and Christmas — not for shoot days.
Outside, the sky glowed silvery black under a late-November moon. We had been watching woodcock through the night sight during the previous week, their huge eyes shining like spotlights in the scope. And I felt a pang of regret that our usual farm shoot day was cancelled right at the height of the season. Lots of birds, but no guests to enjoy them.
But I realised, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes and fumbled with the kettle, that Elizabeth saw things differently. The usual boisterous team of around 40 assorted friends was stood down due to COVID-19. Instead my wife Lyndsey and I had decided to run a mini shoot day for the four of us. William, our 14-year-old, was to be the single standing Gun, Liz was responsible for picking-up while Mrs G and I would beat.
Liz was clearly delighted that it was to be a Garnham-only day. “It’s too early yet for pheasants,” I told her to clear disappointment. “Let’s check out the marsh.”
She brightened. The lights of the distant port winked their encouragement through the gloom. A curlew whistled its plaintive call and brent geese added their bass notes to a symphony of wildfowl and waders. For a time we stood whispering as our eyes became accustomed to the receding darkness. I was particularly keen to establish whether I could hear the ringing kritt of a teal and, if so, from which part of the marsh.
Six wigeon
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة December 30, 2020 من Shooting Times & Country.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة December 30, 2020 من Shooting Times & Country.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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