Fallow under the falcon

Ostensibly it was a meat hunt. A quick sortie to get venison for the summer barbie and to impress the visiting Aussie sister-in-law and brood. In reality, it was a bit of a soul search as well.

The does had just started dropping fawns, so the landowner had closed the area for hunting but trusted me to do what I had to do without disturbing the area. It suited me; I love the stealth aspect of hunting and, in particular, the challenge of taking an animal cleanly without it knowing you are there.

I also needed this hunt for other reasons: after a hectic few months, I’d crawled towards the end of the year with low reserves and, unlike Americans who put their restoration in the hands of therapists,