From disappointment to delight
By Alan Jarrett.
BY mid-September the harvest was largely over, with brown acres of stubble everywhere. The more diligent farmers had already turned their fields into brown deserts where the next crop had been planted, leaving less shooting opportunity.
But there were still chances to be found, and two of these were spotted on the same day. Permission for the first would normally have been a given, but someone had beaten me to it. “You can go anywhere else on the farm, but I have promised… he can have that field.” Fair enough – perhaps I need to be quicker off the mark next time!
The other chance was on a vast stubble, with an ownership line running through the middle. To the right of the line I had permission; to the left of the line I did not. To the right of the line it was a pigeon desert; to the left of the line it was pigeon Valhalla!
The farmer was friendly enough, but said no as he had others shooting there (even if they must be invisible for in all my years shooting that area, none had ever been seen!). Setting up on that boundary line was an option in the hope of the decoys dragging birds in, but it wasn’t the best option in the world.
