Woodlife

Remember Mr J? I visited him in September being the owner of some woods quite close to where I live. At the time the pheasant shooting season was just about to start. The eccentrically wonderful and quintessentially English Mr J asked me to return in February.
 
His daughter directed me to an old potting shed at the back of the country house over looking a sumptuous lake. The slightly stooping figure of Mr J appeared in full gardening regalia, complete with mustard waistcoat, tie, green wellies, fingerless gloves and a dripping nose.

Pablo: Hello Mr J, I don’t suppose you remember me?

Mr J: Yes of course! Well done, well done. Of course I remember you! Wildlife wasn’t it? Yes, well done! Well done for coming back.

Pablo: You said I should pop in after the pheasant season to see if I could use your woods.

Mr J: Yes, exactly. Wonderful. Okay then, I will give you the number of my man. He looks after the woods.

We walked into the house and into Mr J’s office/study.

Mr J: Sit down now. Sit down.

I sat down on a rickety looking chair which nearly toppled over. A quick look around and I saw signs of a seemingly disorganised, old-fashioned working farm office.

Mr J: Pigeons.

Pablo: Pardon me?

Mr J: They might still be shooting pigeons, but they generally pack up mid March.

Pablo: I’ll give him a ring to let him know when I’m going in. I wouldn’t want to disturb any shooting.

Mr J: Exactly. I’ll speak to him on Monday and let him know.

Mr J disappeared for a good 5 minutes and eventually returned carrying a short and well eaten pencil. We swopped phone numbers on the back of an old envelope torn in half.

Mr J: Exactly, exactly. What is it you do again?

Pablo: I like to study the wildlife and I do a bit of tracking. I might stay in the woods at night sometimes if that’s okay. Lots to see at night.

Mr J: Yes exactly. (Chuckles.) Well done. We like all that. We don’t like people who just wander in. People think they have a right you know.

Pablo: Exactly. That’s why I ask permission. (This sounds familiar…) Do you know Mr T. by any chance? (I remember Mr T, another landowner, providing a long discourse why people shouldn’t have the right to roam.)

Mr J: Yes, I know him.

In the pause that followed, I expected a bit of information about Mr T or at least a little more on the right to roam, but nothing more was forthcoming.

Pablo: Well, thank you again. Of course I will keep an eye out for you.

Mr J: Yes do that. Well done, well done…

…and with that, he was off to his potting shed – leaving me sitting in the chair.

This seems to be a great step forward. Access to a fine piece of mixed woodland.

Pablo.