Spring passing

With only the fickle pigeons offering some light relief during lockdown, Alan’s thoughts turn to days gone by in the estuary, and to one prized quarry in particular – the elusive pintail.

- ALAN JARRETT

Those early days of spring soon pass. In terms of climate, these are some of my favourite weeks of the year, and they are gone all too soon. It is that pre-hayfever time. The woods are full of celandine and wood anemone, with bluebells pushing eagerly through. Dawns can be crisp or balmy, without great rhyme or reason, while the nights still have that cold hand of winter running over you as you gaze at the constellations above.

As I write, we are in the grip of coronavirus, and my job as a council leader is tougher than I ever might have imagined when I came into this post in 2015. We now see the best of people and, sadly, also the worst of people.

Being free to shoot pigeons if they are damaging crops is at least a relief of sorts – but spring pigeons can be notoriously fickle, especially on the drillings, which they soon clear up and move on. If you strike it right, you have an enjoyable day in relatively benign conditions. But striking it right can be quite a trick to pull off – especially if you have plenty of other duties to occupy the time. Much to my chagrin, not checking one particular field caused me to eventually find it covered with the grey birds, and no time the following day to take advantage of it! The following day, the field was bare at lunchtime, but by 7 pm about 50 birds were back so perhaps not all was going to be lost. It might just be worth a long vigil to claim a bird or two.