Rosch
AH senior member
Around 1982, I came to Southern Africa to spend some voluntary time on a farm, which finally turned into 15 great years, or better into "best-time-of-my-life" which I never will forget!
Now in Europe, most things have changed! I spend my offtime not in the wild, as I did in Africa. No, my "wild" today is a roughly 300 hectare sized rented batch, situated in the most west of Germany, next to the dutch border. Landscape is mostly huge agriculture fields with some little islands of bush or small forest. Also some houses and farmsteads in between. This is also home for some red deer, seldom wild hog, few rabbits and some secret predators like red fox, some sorts of weasels and, as present, birds like pheasant, dugs and geese. Here is my place, here I try to "hunt" today, but "protect" would get closer to the facts .
Right now, all in all, I would say, I'm a truly dedicated but also reserved hunter. Surprisingly, it does not upset my inner hunter ego to come home with an empty bag. With the years, You know, it starts to feel much better, to spare the shot and just watch and enjoy the scene when game is in sight. Why? I try to explain.
Germany. It's very much different to wide open african spaces with that enormous count and variety of game and wildlife far down there in the south of the world. Here in Central Europe are much, much, much more people but much, much less land and ... next to zero untouched nature.
Every squaremeter is counted, used or even raped, with machines or chemicals, most both. Intense used land, the soil reckless treated as hard a doghater wouldn't treat his dog. Land, which is forced to produce vegetable, corn and grain like a manmade industrial plant, the only focus on maximum rentability.
No mercy for nature, game or insects left. Even bees, some years back still around in abudance, belong meanwhile to the top group of endagered spezies.
Everything is regulated, poisened or left as dead flesh behind the big size monster machines, which are designed to handle those big portions of land in short time.
"Enjoying" outdoors means here something else, which doesn't has much to do with "Joy". No comparison to those unforgettable days in the endless, manless and mostly untouched bush of Southern Africa. Germany means sharing, even silence. You are never alone. Never unseen. Never unwatched. Behind every clump of grass or tiny bush there might be hiding some walker, mushroomer, lover, jogger, kids hanging out or just an old lady, walking the fat dog or having a pee. Sometimes in the fields, if the weather fits, it feels like rushhour at the shopping mall. People with people, more People with dogs or people with no dogs or just dogs strolling on their own. On the path, in the woods, in the fields, yes, all over. So before anybody is getting into real hunting or even thinking about taking any shot at anything, make damned sure, the target doesn't wear Nike's.
Later on, when I'm out in the evening, thank god, all this mass of people have vanished behind their TV's, the dogs dozing in their baskets, the joggers finished with their ambitious schedule, the last walkers did their final round, then things turn back to normal. The light of day is gently fading away, piece by piece in slow motion, typical for the nothern hemisphaere. The sound of evening traffic washes to me like waves would do on a near by beach. Night is already standby, the tired air turns foggy, the street lights over there get switched on. The noisy messy world is echoing down like a big nasty bear falling asleep. Gratefully. Suddenly, short before darkness and just for some minutes, the magic of a little teespoon full of nature is waking up and, if lucky, very shy red deer appears from nowhere on the agriculture optimised scene, some rabbits hopping into the open too, like ghosts in twilight zone, floating over GPS guided rows of soil, demonstrating their godgiven right of freedom. Too late, too little light to certainly indentify each sex or age or even size of the animals. Crouching in the hide, binos on my eyes, the loaded gun ready next to me, there would be, for sure, the one or other chance to think about doing what hunters normally do ... but then that bitter sad voice in Yourself whispers earnest to You, that those creatures, which have hidden away the whole day to remain undetected by all this human stupid terror, they have truly earned that little break and peace. You emphatically cancel every thought about doing any harm to those unenviable animals. Enjoying only with the eyes what nature offers, light is finally fading out and then it's dark. Time to go home I guess. Unwilling, because I enjoy the stillness and the peace of this moment even so. A fresh breeze is coming up and makes me feel chilly. All the sudden I feel like a foreigner, like an intruder, like one, who doesn't belong here. A thought jumps into my mind, that we all are so wrong annoying our world, our nature, our wildlive and even ourselfs with our reckless human way of life. A strange feeling and fear deep in my heart comes up and touches me like cheating one of those rare best friends with the knowledge in mind, that there is no way back, no chance of redemption. Ever.
But I don't want to bother You with my thoughts or empty my sad heart on You. The reason for writing this is actually that I enjoyed so many times Your great stories and memories in here. You brought me so many times back into the african bush, just in my mind. Feeling often like sitting next to You looking into the same campfire You do, when You guys telling all this great stories about today, yesterday and so many days before. Sipping on a glas of african red wine, feeling the warmth of the fire in the oven, my dog next to me and watching this bushman TV with everyday's new programm. Open eyes, actually not seeing what You're staring at, You remember Your own stories and experiences. You have them all in front of You, one after the other. Digging out old tales about people, animals and happenings, some with happy, some with sad end. The fascinating lives of man and beast, unique smells and sounds and even some unknown secrets about Africa, published in Your stories, may be lost forever if not. I feel that I owe You something, at least a story of mine to give back and maybe keep Your "campfire" burning?
Respect the world, the game and allways use enough gun!
Now in Europe, most things have changed! I spend my offtime not in the wild, as I did in Africa. No, my "wild" today is a roughly 300 hectare sized rented batch, situated in the most west of Germany, next to the dutch border. Landscape is mostly huge agriculture fields with some little islands of bush or small forest. Also some houses and farmsteads in between. This is also home for some red deer, seldom wild hog, few rabbits and some secret predators like red fox, some sorts of weasels and, as present, birds like pheasant, dugs and geese. Here is my place, here I try to "hunt" today, but "protect" would get closer to the facts .
Right now, all in all, I would say, I'm a truly dedicated but also reserved hunter. Surprisingly, it does not upset my inner hunter ego to come home with an empty bag. With the years, You know, it starts to feel much better, to spare the shot and just watch and enjoy the scene when game is in sight. Why? I try to explain.
Germany. It's very much different to wide open african spaces with that enormous count and variety of game and wildlife far down there in the south of the world. Here in Central Europe are much, much, much more people but much, much less land and ... next to zero untouched nature.
Every squaremeter is counted, used or even raped, with machines or chemicals, most both. Intense used land, the soil reckless treated as hard a doghater wouldn't treat his dog. Land, which is forced to produce vegetable, corn and grain like a manmade industrial plant, the only focus on maximum rentability.
No mercy for nature, game or insects left. Even bees, some years back still around in abudance, belong meanwhile to the top group of endagered spezies.
Everything is regulated, poisened or left as dead flesh behind the big size monster machines, which are designed to handle those big portions of land in short time.
"Enjoying" outdoors means here something else, which doesn't has much to do with "Joy". No comparison to those unforgettable days in the endless, manless and mostly untouched bush of Southern Africa. Germany means sharing, even silence. You are never alone. Never unseen. Never unwatched. Behind every clump of grass or tiny bush there might be hiding some walker, mushroomer, lover, jogger, kids hanging out or just an old lady, walking the fat dog or having a pee. Sometimes in the fields, if the weather fits, it feels like rushhour at the shopping mall. People with people, more People with dogs or people with no dogs or just dogs strolling on their own. On the path, in the woods, in the fields, yes, all over. So before anybody is getting into real hunting or even thinking about taking any shot at anything, make damned sure, the target doesn't wear Nike's.
Later on, when I'm out in the evening, thank god, all this mass of people have vanished behind their TV's, the dogs dozing in their baskets, the joggers finished with their ambitious schedule, the last walkers did their final round, then things turn back to normal. The light of day is gently fading away, piece by piece in slow motion, typical for the nothern hemisphaere. The sound of evening traffic washes to me like waves would do on a near by beach. Night is already standby, the tired air turns foggy, the street lights over there get switched on. The noisy messy world is echoing down like a big nasty bear falling asleep. Gratefully. Suddenly, short before darkness and just for some minutes, the magic of a little teespoon full of nature is waking up and, if lucky, very shy red deer appears from nowhere on the agriculture optimised scene, some rabbits hopping into the open too, like ghosts in twilight zone, floating over GPS guided rows of soil, demonstrating their godgiven right of freedom. Too late, too little light to certainly indentify each sex or age or even size of the animals. Crouching in the hide, binos on my eyes, the loaded gun ready next to me, there would be, for sure, the one or other chance to think about doing what hunters normally do ... but then that bitter sad voice in Yourself whispers earnest to You, that those creatures, which have hidden away the whole day to remain undetected by all this human stupid terror, they have truly earned that little break and peace. You emphatically cancel every thought about doing any harm to those unenviable animals. Enjoying only with the eyes what nature offers, light is finally fading out and then it's dark. Time to go home I guess. Unwilling, because I enjoy the stillness and the peace of this moment even so. A fresh breeze is coming up and makes me feel chilly. All the sudden I feel like a foreigner, like an intruder, like one, who doesn't belong here. A thought jumps into my mind, that we all are so wrong annoying our world, our nature, our wildlive and even ourselfs with our reckless human way of life. A strange feeling and fear deep in my heart comes up and touches me like cheating one of those rare best friends with the knowledge in mind, that there is no way back, no chance of redemption. Ever.
But I don't want to bother You with my thoughts or empty my sad heart on You. The reason for writing this is actually that I enjoyed so many times Your great stories and memories in here. You brought me so many times back into the african bush, just in my mind. Feeling often like sitting next to You looking into the same campfire You do, when You guys telling all this great stories about today, yesterday and so many days before. Sipping on a glas of african red wine, feeling the warmth of the fire in the oven, my dog next to me and watching this bushman TV with everyday's new programm. Open eyes, actually not seeing what You're staring at, You remember Your own stories and experiences. You have them all in front of You, one after the other. Digging out old tales about people, animals and happenings, some with happy, some with sad end. The fascinating lives of man and beast, unique smells and sounds and even some unknown secrets about Africa, published in Your stories, may be lost forever if not. I feel that I owe You something, at least a story of mine to give back and maybe keep Your "campfire" burning?
Respect the world, the game and allways use enough gun!
