Stepping from the motor into my own frosted breath, I applauded myself for adding an extra base layer to the shooting attire this morning. The low winter sun wasn’t going to win against a scything Easterly breeze today. Before donning my shooting mitts I loaded two magazines with .22 Air Arms field diablo pellets. I … Continue reading Long Walk, Little Rifle
The low winter sun that blinded me on the drive to the wood augured well for an extended shooting session. It was 2.30 pm on the penultimate day of the year. It would make a welcome change to stand in the dry after what seems like weeks of torrential rain. I’d already checked the wind … Continue reading A Red Sky Roost Shoot
Dawn is an enchanting time for the shooter and wildlife observer. Today, on the cusp of the winter solstice, it came late and allowed me to linger longer in the comfort of my bed. I woke to wind and rain battering the south-facing bedroom window, yet the temptation of lazing was immediately dismissed. For today … Continue reading Wildscribbler’s Diary – December 2019
A walk to the hill, with the gun, in the chill The woodcock moon hangs upon high. No leaf on the bough, light frost on the plough Skeins of pinkfoot and greylag pass by. Climbing up to the crest, to where view is best A small silhouette catches the eye. The stance of a hare, … Continue reading The Moongazers
The Night Before Boxing Day She pulls up her collar and tugs down her cap Her ruddy cheeks stung by the Eastern winds slap. With rifle on shoulder, and spaniel at side She sets off for a last check of covert and ride. It’s now snowing lightly, the sun lowering red She leaves behind family, … Continue reading The Night Before Boxing Day
November, for the shooter, is the month (due to the clock change) to load the freezer with woodpigeon breasts. You can be out in the roost wood at 3pm, before the incoming birds arrive and shoot through to sundown. Whether you choose a shotgun or an airgun is a matter of personal choice. As someone … Continue reading Wildscribbler’s Diary – November 2019
The walk around one of my shooting permissions this morning was later that usual. The crows laughed at my tardiness and most of the grey squirrels had gone back to the dreys to sleep off breakfast. Not that I was worried. I stole through the wood with a grin like the proverbial Cheshire cat. The … Continue reading The Complete Airgunner – #amwriting #amhunting
I was on a late afternoon squirrel sortie around my shoot, under a rustic autumn leaf canopy, when I spotted them. All around me, the floor was strewn with the spikey kernels of sweet chestnuts. Hundreds of them. Most were split open, the brown fruits peeping out like hares eyes. Some were fresh and unripe … Continue reading That Old Chestnut
On the second weekend in August (while the rest of the UK was subjected to a battering, torrential rain, and flooding) here in East Anglia we got off lightly with just warm, gale-force winds. Yet the temperature was about 26C. It reminded me of the tent-tearing ‘scirocco’ I endured on my only ever camping trip … Continue reading When The Wind Blows
I’m long enough in the tooth now not to get too ‘rattled’ by the antics of those opposed to shooting as August 12th approaches. The opening day of grouse shooting, every year, prompts not just salvo’s of lead but also a barrage of verbosity from both sides of the shooting divide. Yesterday saw the usual … Continue reading Gloves Off On The Glorious Twelfth
