On a cool, misty November dawn, the silhouette of a healthy, middle-aged stag took shape out of the fog like a ghost.
It seems he will become a regular visitor to this feeder.
Life is starting to return to the Big Green Wallow . . . Today at 04:36 – while the camera was still in night, black-and-white mode – these fine young pigs arrived and spent more than an hour here, methodically picking up even the weekend’s few handfuls of corn. It’s been a long time since…
It’s mid-February now, and the red deer rut is long behind us. Within a few weeks, the stags’ testosterone levels plummet, and bone-resorption sets in. At the junction of the antler pedicle and the bony outgrowth – precisely where their connection transforms at the microscopic level – resorption begins. The bony trabeculae gradually lose their…
The night cooled down to -9°C. Even the leaf litter at the bottom of the forest froze solid. Even the mice thought carefully about whether to venture out, since the frozen leaves crackled loudly enough to carry far, even under their tiny feet. As for me, I can now say I’ve had the toughest night…
The weekend is approaching, when the land lease agreement for the 2025 hunting year will be finalized, and after walking the new hunting ground, in the quiet, hidden, game-concealing thicket judged to be the best spot, near game trails, watercourses, and wallows, at a distance of around 25m from them, in accordance with the prevailing…
Shortly after dark a fine boar came to visit the feeder. Or rather, -since the camera that’s been watching the feeder for half a year now hadn’t yet sent any footage of him- he wandered onto the feeder by mistake, Sadly, he didn’t linger long. He just peeked in. At the 12th second of the…