1 Man, 1 Hunter, 1 Nomad.: The Hunters Chronicles

Spring truly is a season that is alive. Alive with the magic and miracle of life in all its abundant forms. A chance to welcome the return of seemingly long lost companions you mourned the fading of not 3-4 months prior. It is little wonder that it was cause for many a celebration for our fore-fathers and a time to rejoice in the gift that you and your fellows managed to preserve in the cold dark times now past. There are few grounds upon which I can doubt as to why they named this 'now', this moment, the 'present'. Of course, it is also mellowed with the memory of those who may not have made it. Like the many squirrels, pigeons, and even perhaps a friend or relative. A great dose of perspective not bestowed upon those for whom the seasons have little impact. They who spend their lives under artificial light locked away in the same fashion 'industry', the very same machine they perpetuate, imposes upon the wretched broiler house chicken.

All these thoughts came to me as I, in direct contrast, prowled the fields drenched in the rising warmth of the morning sunlight. Feet bathed in dew. A cool breeze frigid enough to warrant an extra layer in spite of the suns efforts and the scene witnessed by the eye.

A long reconnoiter culminated in an ideal spot under a tree frequented often by the pigeons that cooed all around.

As I waited in silence (pausing sometimes to reply to hunting life comments on my mobile) I cast my eyes about to see what other opportunities may be exploited in future. Pheasants were all around, confident and bold almost as though they were aware of our rules and legislations. A crow mobbed a buzzard, always a sight of awe at his bravery as each time I measure the disparity between the size of the combatants. So fierce and persistent is the crow, that I cannot help but pity the bird of prey and question why he doesn't rip the cocky devil to shreds!
Otherwise only the odd lone rabbit could be seen, timid and fearful way out of range.

It wasn't long before I fluffed my first opportunity, it wasn't long after that before I was more careful and took my time.

This time, two settled in the tree, my target chosen by the clearest path. I wasn't entirely happy witb the shot he presented and no sooner had I mulled this over when a third arrived. Scope adjusted to 6x mag crosshairs settled one the head with only slight elevation for gravity, it was lights out upon impact with a direct fall to the ground.