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  1. Last Tuesday a mild zepher of west wind took me to one of my favourite roost woods. Square and only a few acres in extent some years it reeks of pigeon poo and preened feathers lie like giant snow flakes. The field in grass and clover lies about 500 yards from the road and parking place. Few pigeon were visible when I run the binos over the wood on arrival at 3pm. Kept the gun in the slip as had decided not to shoot any which were flushed in the hope of their multiple return. Yep and the wood was packed clattering out in their hundreds, I guessed around 600, to disappear eastwards into the distance. Getting settled in and wild dog tethered awaited the horde's return. It did not happen, but 500 yards away lies a younger plantation and even with the naked eye it showed a perpetual motion of birds swooping to the clover and returning to the trees. By this time it was after 4pm , with no decoys I decided to leave them in peace and return on the morrow to perform a mammoth slaying. Three pigeon did come my way one being unlucky enough to fall to my second barrel. Wednesday 11 am all set up with 12 FUDs and a couple of bouncers backpacked across a very long field, getting to old for that kind of lark methinks. Not a breath of wind, the hide did not need its usual guy lines, and it was comfortable in the late winter or is it early spring sunshine. Wild dog tethered safely to the fence, keeps looking as if to say ,'come on then, give me something to chase'. Well it was not so, 3pm and phoned a friend to see if they were in the field, and, a solitary pigeon flew over the hide giving the deeks the glad eye. Had enough by 3 : 30 and packed up, the best laid schemes etc etc. Still I did not have a load of birds to stagger back with on what is the uphill leg of the return trip- saved a load of cartridges as well. Disgruntled Pigeon Shooter (aka Blackpowder)
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