Shooting Times & Country Magazine
A CLASSIC SERIES REVISITED
As the temperature starts to drop and the nights draw in, James Green will soon be back in his happy place — but first he must empty the freezer
Much to my disappointment, this year the first of September passed me by in the blink of an eye; a combination of work and family life was to blame. The unseasonably warm weather helped soften the blow — it didn’t feel like I should be heading out after a duck. Though going on social media and reading tales of first forays on the saltings soon made me envious. My wife noticed and was very forgiving as I grumbled around the house.
Heading out on the first of September has long been a tradition of ours. Without any real expectation of a shot, it’s a chance to see in the new season, dust off the kit and explore the estuary following six months of changes. One of my favourite such visits saw my dad, Shane Robinson, and me sitting on the marsh top from midnight, chatting away about trips from yesteryear and generally putting the world to rights. I couldn’t tell you if we were successful come daybreak, but I can certainly remember copious amounts of laughter.
Little helpers
The weekend before last was the Weston Park Country Fair, which has replaced the well-known Midland Game Fair. This used to be the signal for my dad and me that we were now approaching fowling time and wigeon would soon be on our West Country estuaries. We’d return home following two days of non-stop fowling chat full of excitement, with the first proper trip planned and in the diary. I’m looking forward
“The kit is ready and the dogs are itching to go — it won’t be long now”
to similar experiences with my children. My boy is now 11 and will perhaps join me with a gun under his arm later this season. My daughter is only three, but her interest in the countryside is already shining through. I’m sure she’s another fowler in the making.
I recently capitalised on some free child labour and had them both helping me to dust off my kit. Parenthood does have an upside. I’m now ready to go when the opportunity arises. Decoys have been cleaned and touched up with a lick of paint; it’s amazing how a shiny eye and a sharpening-up of the white flashes brings them back to life. Waders have been repaired and a blast on the calls has blown the cobwebs out. The kayak is ready, and the dogs are keener than ever.
My last job before that first trip to the foreshore was to sort out my freezer. I was brought up to eat everything that I shot or caught. It’s a part of the sport that can sometimes go under the radar, but preparing my quarry and cooking it for my family gives me as much enjoyment as the trip itself. I guess it’s my way of showing respect to my quarry. I have a rule of making sure my freezer is empty of last year’s spoils before I start topping it back up. This season saw me mince the remaining fowl, a mix of species and cuts, and turn them into fowler’s pie. It created eight ready dinners for the family, ideal when a quick meal is needed.
Read the script
Three weeks have now passed and I’m yet to get my fix of fresh estuary air. The temperature has now started to drop, the nights are drawing in, and the morning dog walk certainly has an autumnal feel to it. The kit is ready, the dogs are itching to go, there is space in the freezer — it won’t be long now before I get out.
I’ll be back in my happy place, listening to the sounds as the estuary comes to life, watching the myriad different species as they go about their business, and witnessing the unmistakable beauty of a sunrise on the estuary. Hopefully the duck will have read the script and will be there to join me at flight time.
James Green is a wildfowler, countryman, conservationist and wild food enthusiast. The son of the Cornish Countryman, Chris Green, you could say that shooting sports are in his DNA.