Through the Wild Eye : (Notes from a Norfolk Hunter)

Only when you learn to view the countryside through the eye of the wild creature, do you become at one with the countryside. The wild creature does not seek charity or compassion. It does not seek human protection or sanctuary. For as soon as that happens, it is no longer wild. The truly wild only exist to feed, to mate and to run free. Many creatures, even in our relatively passive British countryside, need to kill others to survive. From the top of what we perceive to be the food chain to the bottom, Mother Nature balances all predation with creation. Fickle as she is, she balances over-creation with more predation. Thus the wild creature views the world from it's own perspective as prey or predator. And many are both. One of my editors has described me as a 'prolific' writer. If I am an obsessive hunter, a practised fieldsman, a keen photographer, a half-decent cook ... I am, most of all, an addicted author. Writing is my opium, my alcohol, my nicotine, my mistress. Writing allows me to spill upon the page the sights, sounds and scents that I witness in the depths of the Norfolk countryside. Anyone who has read my work will know that I have the utmost respect for the quarry I hunt. Also for the fauna, flora and landscape that build the canvas on which I paint my words. This collection is a compendium of articles printed across several years and across all seasons. Many were published in The Countryman's Weekly, some on my own websites and aren't just about shooting. They are a hunter and field-naturalists observations. There are hundreds of tips thrown in for the pot-hunter, small vermin controller and photographer too, for that is the purpose of many of my articles. How to get close to wildlife and how to understand what you see. So come join me, please, on a safari through Norfolk's woods and fields. If you choose to bring the camera, I will explain why you might want to carry a gun. If you bring the gun, I will explain why you may regret leaving the camera behind. I hope that by the end of this book you will hear the blackbirds song, watch the rooks beating home, stare into the hares eye and smell the wild garlic.