Defying the drizzle
NDC
s a youngster, 1 February each year meant two things: a rough walked-up day marauding for an eve-of-armistice pheasant; and desolation at the ending of another season. February really isn’t all bad, however, and in an ideal world it actually ranks quite highly amongst sporting months. Once January is over, hounds are granted access to hitherto sacred coverts and new country is opened up for the first time in the season. The excitement of following hounds across pastures new and jumping
