As it did for many people, lockdown two spelled the closure of my business and a halt to my shooting season. The latter might not seem as important but shooting is the lifeblood of many rural economies, offering social interaction and stress release for thousands of people. So when a BASC email dropped into my inbox in the early weeks of lockdown, declaring that one-man rough shooting forays were legal, I knew I had to take full advantage.
Last summer, I managed to pick up a new permission on a local farm. Unlike previous permissions, which were won with polite letters and hard graft, this was gained through the simplicity of an honest conversation; no strings, no cost and no obligation.At the heart of the permission lies a trio of woods comprising 23 acres of unmanaged wilderness, planted in the 1950s and left to their own devices ever since. Though mainly conifers, they’ve been sympathetically planted, allowing light to penetrate and life to continue below the canopy, creating a patchwork of crispy woodland floor, clear streams and scrubby understorey.
I had a recce with my Clumber spaniel, Bertie, at the start of the season, but despite the woods looking perfect there was very little game. My theory was that once winter sank its teeth in, wild pheasants would commit to the shelter and, with a November full moon, migratory woodcock would flood to the wetland paradise.
Everybody loves a theory and with the woods laid out in an arc, the plan was to sweep from one foot of the arc to another, so if birds flushed unseen they would move on to the next wood.
Quivering
Bu hikaye Shooting Times & Country dergisinin December 16, 2020 sayısından alınmıştır.
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Bu hikaye Shooting Times & Country dergisinin December 16, 2020 sayısından alınmıştır.
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