As you can see some of the pesky varmits were nabbed – but not by me. The Scottish Field editor is, rather appropriately, of a much surer shot. I stayed behind the lens.
It’s not often I get to shoot a photo essay in my day-to-day work so when the opportunity came up I naturally jumped at the chance. And being essentially an urbanite country sports are an alien world to me, hence my slight confusion when a dead pigeon was attached to a ‘pigeon magnet’ in what to my eyes appeared a slightly macabre fashion.
The fixers for the day’s shoot were keen to point out the damage that pigeons do to crops, that they are vermin and population control is necessary, possibly detecting my hippyish tendencies. But with it possible to bag hundreds in a day, how else do the restaurants keep supplied? In fact Scottish Field’s editor’s biggest disappointment was missing a squab pigeon, a young pigeon with the tastiest meat.
While I was offered the chance to bring home a few, I wasn’t sure the reaction I’d get holding a brace of pigeon corpses on my return home. Maybe next time.
You can see the rest of the pictures – and more besides – in this month’s edition of Scottish Field Magazine.
