Bog Myrtle & Peat

It seems like every year I am away for the first proper fall of snow. Last year I was shooting in Yorkshire; this year I was in Croatia. There is such a huge amount of writing that I’m now planning in an attempt to do justice to the awesome brilliance of driven wild boar shooting, but for now I have to catch up with all the work I’ve missed over the past four days.

Suffice it to say for now that the snow has now started to go back and melt into a semi-transparent ice, leaving no sign of the fox runs that I had hoped to find. In addition, I am having a woodburning stove fitted in the house. It turns out that the man doing the work can’t get in to finish the job because of the ice, so not only do I not have a woodburning stove, but I don’t even have a fireplace. As I type this, I’m wearing two jumpers and my shooting jacket and my fingers still feel a little numb.