Stolen hours with a gun

Not far from where I live, there is a 60-acre woodland that was planted at the turn of the millennium on an old landfill site. Once planted, a deer fence was put up around the whole block and it was left to its own devices. The eclectic mix of trees thrived on the old rubbish tip and an enchanting wood grew up.

Throughout its life, the woodland has remained unmanaged. Rarely does anyone venture into it, least of all to shoot it. When I started work on the estate, I was given free rein by the forester to enjoy the wood, given that no one else used it.

Over the past few years it has become a special place. A place that I have often retreated to when I need headspace, thinking