As a townie my attitude to hunting is probably sentimental.
A casual chat in The Hill pub sheds light on country culture in East Galway.
I know deer can be a pest to farmers but ...
East where the sun rises
and where the woodcock falls.
I trawl the Coill listening.
"They shoot deer," you say.
But deer eat lichen.
"They eat grass too."
City-heeled boots clicking.
Woodcock at dusk and deer at dawn.
Coill takes on another meaning.
In bracken woods I meet him stalking.
Conifers climb to a white sun setting.
"Good evening, " I say and move on.
I hasten back to the Hill pub and you
pulling pints and casually knocking
sentiment out of city-slick.
Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2016