2008 did not exactly get off to a good start! I have long given up making New Year resolutions. Circumstances and situations change, and whilst good intentions are not exactly broken, they do not always work out as one intends. Far better, I am sure, to reflect upon any mistakes made during the previous 12 months and ensure that they are not repeated.

I rarely stalk in the rain. I have no need to subject myself to discomfort as I live on my small acreage and, depending upon other commitments, I can set out with the rifle whenever I choose.

I cannot recall a successful outing in wet conditions over the years, anyway. Usually the deer remain in the warmth and dry of the adjacent forest where I do not have permission to stalk and who can blame them?

Getting soaked with nothing to show for it is something I would rather avoid. The only exception to this rule of mine is when I have invited a friend to accompany me, usually somebody who is restricted to holidays and weekends for his sport. That being the case I have to grin and bear whatever the elements throw at us as I do not like disappointing anybody.

The signs were encouraging after Christmas. There were roe droppings on the steep hillside below the high seat where I had been feeding carrots and twice I had glimpsed that ageing roe doe which I have had in mind for replenishing the venison in the freezer. The time was now right to take her.

I asked a friend who stalks occasionally if he would like to accompany me. He responded with enthusiasm and I told him to be at my house by 3.30pm on the day in question. That would give us ample time to be in position for the last hour of daylight.

After a couple of days of heavy rain and strong winds, the weather turned to heavy blustery showers. Always an optimist, I was relying on an hour or so of tolerable conditions and the wind was certainly in the right direction, blowing towards where we would be standing or sitting in wait. I would, of course, offer him the high seat.

During the morning there were a couple of heavy showers but by lunchtime the skies had cleared. Fingers crossed!

I made my usual fastidious preparations whilst I waited for my colleague to arrive, donning waterproofs, checking my rifle, cartridges, etc, and ensuring that I had everything which I was likely to need.

It would not be dark until approaching 5pm so we had plenty of time. At 3.15pm I switched on the light and looked out of the window. It was almost dark already as heavy black clouds hastened dusk.

By 3.25pm I was pacing up and down, watching for the headlights of my friend's car coming down the road. “Hurry up,” I muttered my impatience aloud, “or it'll be dark before we start.”

Chris is one of the most reliable of people and his punctuality is never in doubt. Sure enough, dead on 3.30pmhe arrived all ready to go.

“It'll be dark early tonight,” I stated the obvious as we walked up the lane to my roadside gate.

I had left both my spaniels at home, not wishing to subject them to a long, cold wait. If necessary I could return and fetch them in a matter of ten minutes or so.

The wind had strengthened to gale force and we were within a couple of hundred yards of our destination when the storm hit us. It was no ordinary storm, in fact it was the worst which I have experienced for many years, at least when I have been out of doors and at the mercy of climatic conditions.

It was a mixture of rain, hail and sleet, driven horizontally at us by the wind which had me bent low and holding on to my wide-brimmed waterproof headgear for fear that it should be whipped away and never seen again.

After about 30 yards I raised my head and discovered that I had veered slightly off course. However, we were almost there.

“Would you like the high seat?” An offer which was not entirely made out of courtesy to a guest.

“No, thanks,” Chris replied. “I think I'll stand on the edge of the wood. There's plenty of shelter there and a good field of vision.”

Sensible fellow. I had drawn the short straw.

The force of the storm had abated considerably as I climbed up aloft. My hands were numb and, in spite of wearing a thick sweater beneath my waterproofs, I was frozen to the marrow.

Had I been alone I would have abandoned the stalk long before reaching the small wood, but I was committed now. One crumb of comfort was that it would soon be dark and so there would only be a short wait.

Then, as so often happens up here in the hills, the skies cleared. There was even a patch of blue sky showing and the setting sun peeped over the distant mountains. The storm had passed and it was much lighter than it had been during my impatience as 3.30pm had approached.

I glanced at my watch. It was a few minutes short of 4pm and darkness was a full hour away. It might even be longer.

Frozen rain dripped off the brim of my hat and somehow managed to trickle down inside my collar. I pulled off my non-waterproof mittens, squeezed the water out of them, stuffed them in my pocket and made a mental note to buy myself a pair of polypropylene ones like my friend was wearing. New Year resolution number one!

My fingers were numb and I tried to rub some life into them. My feet were like blocks of ice in spite of my wearing a thick pair of socks which my wife had bought me for Christmas. I chambered a round and rested my rifle on the rail.

It was lighter now than I had known it at this time of day in the weeks before and after the festive season. “Hurry up and get dark,” I made a plea to the reddish-golden sky beyond the western mountains. It wasn't going to happen, though.

I forced myself to concentrate. If that doe presented itself to me then I had to make a telling first shot. I had no doubts concerning my companion for his marksmanship was undoubted.

Well, very slowly the last vestiges of daylight merged into dusk. When I could no longer be sure of being able to discern a deer clearly on the slope below me, I unloaded my rifle and climbed down. As I joined my friend he seemed relatively snug beneath a Scots pine. “I think we might give it another five minutes,” he suggested.

I apologised for a blank outing. “I guess the deer are sticking to the forest,” he replied, “and they'll probably come out to feed after dark. I enjoyed it all the same.”

I fully believe that he had enjoyed the outing for when working hours dictate then you grab any opportunity to stalk. I know that only too well for I remember how it once was with myself when I had a nine till five job.

Chris had to dash off immediately upon our return home as he was taking his wife out that evening. My usual routine after an outing is to tend to my dogs, clean my rifle and then see to myself. Not having to dry off wet dogs on this occasion, for once I left my rifle and straightway ran a hot bath.

As I lay soaking in the warmth of the water, life flooded back to my limbs. It was an ideal time for reflection, not just on the recent outing but on the past year. Like today, rain had been a major factor throughout the appalling summer with the deer spending most of their time in the big forest.

There were some late-born fawns which had survived and bode well for the coming year. All was not doom and gloom.

In spite of my reluctance to make resolutions, I found myself planning for the next 12 months. I have a neatly typed-up month-by-month management plan and I would revise it somewhat in view of the recently-planted small wood. Revision of an annual routine is always a good thing as fresh ideas spring to mind.

I have been aware for some time that the 28 acres of commercial forestry, below the public road and immediately adjacent to my own land, was scheduled for felling. The trees have now been marked with a blob of orange paint so clearly the project is imminent.

How will an area of clearfell affect the movements of deer on my patch? Will the resident deer spend more time in the big forest above the road? Only time will tell but I must ensure that my land is attractive to them.

Maybe it is time for an overall re-think.

First of all, though, I will take out that old doe. The ‘experts’ are forecasting colder weather and the possibility of some snow. I like snow. As for gales and rain…