Country Diary
Jan 05, 2022
3 minutes
Richard Negus
It was 11am, so we sat on the ride edge and opened our thermos flasks — a ritual we undertake every working day. Richard Gould perched on an upturned bucket, I settled on a stump. Within minutes, the birds in the wood recommenced their chatter, having been silenced in the roar of chainsaws as we coppiced hazel stakes and binders.
In December, birdsong is not the raucous affair of spring, it
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