Hope springs eternal

I knew my 12-year-old daughter was keen to start the day when I found her dressed in waterproofs and wellies at 6am. This was an enthusiasm usually reserved for birthdays and Christmas — not for shoot days.

Outside, the sky glowed silvery black under a late-November moon. We had been watching woodcock through the night sight during the previous week, their huge eyes shining like spotlights in the scope. And I felt a pang of regret that our usual farm shoot day was cancelled right at the height of the season. Lots of birds, but no guests to enjoy them.

“There were lots of birds, but no guests to enjoy them”

But I realised, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes and fumbled with the kettle, that Elizabeth saw things differently. The usual boisterous team of around 40 assorted friends was stood down due to COVID›19. Instead