Apparently Google has its knickers all in a twist over those cunts in the Eu and some shite about cookies. Frankly if they are biscuits then I will eat them, if you are concerned about this then fuck off somewhere else and read something else.

Friday, 7 March 2008

An evening in the woods

Richard and I bimbled over this afternoon to see what was there and if we could see any deer. The Hunt had been through this week judging by the tracks and with that and the woodsman coppicing the chestnut it was a fruitless afternoon, well almost.

The wood looked glorious in its spring colours but still no deer despite seeing slots chewed up by hoof prints.

I put Richard up at one endwhere high seat faces the West end, a possibly difficult place to shoot with sunset but as I cut through the eastern end I heard a bang that wasnt one of the locals with a shotgun.

On walking back through I found this sight:

You can clearly see the exit wound, nice one. It turns out to be a pregnant vixen so thats one less litter in the area. JWD. The brush is now about to be preserved.

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