No mere pipe dream

For the past two years, I’ve been a member of a smallish pheasant syndicate in west Wales. It’s been agreeable and not too costly, and I hope to continue for a few years to come. But the season is a short one and we get about six to eight days, invariably on Saturdays.

Yet there were occasional half-days in the week when I felt like taking the gun and having a walk over some land. It was difficult to do this on the syndicate area and it contained little apart from the pheasants. As it happens, I live within eight miles of a sizeable salt marsh where wild