Worth a brief snippet to include this photograph of a stoat which I took in our garden on Friday. The little monster was rushing around in the wet grass after the rain, and as he worked his way towards our hen run and my partridge pens, I wondered if I had made the right choice in reaching for my camera and not my shotgun. He soon vanished into the grass, and I was left with his brazen, blazing figure scorched into my retinas. I’ve always loved stoats, and it is a frequent source of regret that they are fundamentally incompatible with game birds and poultry. I must have trapped hundreds over the last five years, but as with foxes, there is rarely any pleasure in the job.
I would love to take photography more seriously, but I am already over-reaching on my various projects and I simply don’t have the time. With a proper camera and sufficient patience to devote to the project, I could happily while away several months following stoats across the countryside