So, we went to Snilesworth – and it was a sunny early morning. Henry got a bit distracted here because he started chasing Meadow Pipits and saying that there were lots of voles around. It looked a good place to nest.
But there weren’t any ringtails here for him. And he asked what the line of bits of decking on the moor were! I had to laugh!
Those, Henry, are a rather cheap version of grouse butts. That’s where a line of rich people stand while a line of poor people chase lots of poor birds, called Red Grouse, towards them. Then as the Red Grouse whizz past, the rich people shoot the poor birds and call it sport.
I had to repeat this a few times before Henry could quite get it. He kept saying things like ‘So what’s sporting about that?’ and ‘Where’s the fun?’ and ‘Do they shoot the Meadow Pipits too?’.
Vote for Hen Harrier as our national bird.
#HaveYouSeenHenry
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Brilliant!
The knee-jerk, visceral “dislikers” seem to be getting fewer.
I would dearly have liked to be present in Norfolk when you and Henry take on the blustering Robin Page but I live in Sweden where both (Red) Willow Grouse and Hen Harriers roam wild and free.