Richard levels his sights on a conspicuous drey early in the afternoon
The email sent on a Friday morning was probably the oddest sporting invitation I’d ever issued. “Lots of squirrels on the edge of the hill, let’s meet at 1pm” was perfectly normal. But “Come in your own cars, please bring your own refreshments, always remember to keep at least 2m apart at all times and please, please don’t join us if you feel the slightest bit under the weather” was a portent of the dark clouds gathering on the horizon.
The Saturday afternoon was warm and bright with an almost cloudless sky. However, a keen wind swept across from the western chalk and up over the spur of gravel and greensand that was crowned with forestry — a patchwork of dark-green larch and Sitka with islands of ancient oak, beech and new areas of planting and natural regeneration.
Forestry is taken seriously here — my patch of 600-odd acres is 80% forestry and the estate retains a full-time forester who encourages any effort I can make to help in his constant battle with the grey squirrel population.
A terrier waits eagerly as Richard Hardy tries to get a bead on a fleeing grey squirrel
And so to the slightly awkward briefing: “Squirrels today, nothing else, and nothing else will do more good for the biodiversity here.” Then, after a pause: “But don’t forget to keep 2m apart; actually, let’s be super careful and make that an absolute minimum of 2m, that’ll do more good for our own continued biodiversity.”
Two terriers tussle over the carcass of a grey squirrel downed by a member of the shooting party
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