I was going to go on about poachers and how Roald Dahl gave me the impression that they were all rather good folks with smiling eyes; trying to make a living with paper hats, sleeping tablets, plump raisins and horse hairs but the discussion at home turned from that to red shift versus blue shift into the local universe versus The Universe, the shape and size of Stargates’ (Tiny, wrapped up in a number of dimensions and spherical with no room for Kurt Russell was my resolute opinion!) And the Doppler Effect… Cheers for that Reece! ;o)
But, now that’s died down and I’m back to my blog, it transpires that poachers are complete arseholes, well the ones who left this handsome fellows head on the side of the A46 in Pennsylvania, Bath And North East Somerset (real place) are anyway.
Grim I know but he caught my eye as I drove by yesterday and I passed him again today and was surprised he was still there so had to take the shot. I would have preferred to catch him in a field in November though, but alsa, that’s never going to happen! Like I said, Arseholes!