A hide in plain sight

Last week I opted for old-school shooting. A bale hide on stubble took me back to the days when diesel was 50p a litre and I was a dozy student who spent as much time asleep or shooting as I did studying. A bale hide then was a great place for sport and for late-summer snoozes.

The farm’s peas have been harvested in two parts. We have a large trial plot that is still uncut. The rest have gone off at a disappointing 1.2 tons per acre. Why so low? Well, it’s not pigeon damage. I’ve shot nearly 100 of them since drilling and scary men and bangers have added to the protection.

From the vantage point of the combine, it became clear that rabbits — the common coney — have taken rather a liking to them. Around the