Monday, September 24, 2007 at 8:27PM
Pluvialis takes her goshawk rabbit hunting in a nature reserve:
I glassed the car-park and the field. No dog-walkers. Check. No birdwatchers. Check. No punters out for an evening stroll. Check. And off we crept, gos and I, off to the top wood, where the rabbits are. Sneaked around the corner of the wood. About thirty yards away, a little way out from the margin of the wood, were three rabbits, in sillhouette, ears glowing backlit by the sun. Surely there were more there, crouching to feed. Ah yes. Fringes of dry grass. There. Hop hop. And next to them, a cock pheasant. Such a quiet, lovely, sylvan scene. Into which I intended to let slip havoc and murder.