This is where I spent last weekend – out hunting for a feed of ducks with my father on the opening of the season.
There are groups viciously opposed to hunting. I use that word deliberately. As each year passes they show their disapproval in more illegal, dangerous and immoral ways. While I would certainly not wish to smear all of those against hunting, there is certainly an element – champions for an enlightened society, which comfortably embrace the notion that the end justifies any means.
I expect, one way or another, they will get their way.
I hope my own children, if they have an interest, get the chance to experience hunting with me. I would like to be able to teach them about the long family tradition, the practicalities of being safe in nature and the appreciation of it and their quarry, the satisfaction of cooking and eating food you have gathered for yourself through effort and skill, and the huge responsibility that comes with being a hunter.
I was stalking this lagoon on the second morning. I took the photo while catching my breath and grabbing a drink after a long walk. I had been more focused on not standing on one of the numerous Red-Belly Black Snakes in the area than sneaking up on any ducks. With Sulphur-crested cockatoos making a racket above my head, and Kangaroos moving around me, I had one of those rare moments of peace.
I’m not sure if I have remarked on it here before, but I’ve described my life at the moment as furiously treading water. It is better than drowning, but it doesn’t feel as if I am moving in any direction. It was good catching my breath on the weekend and coming away a little mentally rejuvenated for it. You might have seen the consequences in my flurry of EVE posts.