Posts tagged shooting

Photo 26
Notes
Posted 1 year ago
Named and shamed: UK’s worst place for killing birds of prey Birds of prey including the peregrine falcon, red kite, goshawk and hen harrier are being poisoned or shot in the North York Moors and Yorkshire Dales at a rate unknown in any other region, according to the RSPB. North Yorkshire has been named the UK’s “black spot”, with more crimes against birds of prey and owls reported in the last year than in north Scotland and Wales and all the counties of the south of England combined, found the charity’s Bird Crime 2010 report, to be published on Thursday. Almost 10 per cent of the 117 incidents against 11 species last year took place in the county, which has consistently recorded high rates of such crime, according to the RSPB. Click photo for more Zoom

Named and shamed: UK’s worst place for killing birds of prey

Birds of prey including the peregrine falcon, red kite, goshawk and hen harrier are being poisoned or shot in the North York Moors and Yorkshire Dales at a rate unknown in any other region, according to the RSPB.

North Yorkshire has been named the UK’s “black spot”, with more crimes against birds of prey and owls reported in the last year than in north Scotland and Wales and all the counties of the south of England combined, found the charity’s Bird Crime 2010 report, to be published on Thursday.
Almost 10 per cent of the 117 incidents against 11 species last year took place in the county, which has consistently recorded high rates of such crime, according to the RSPB.

Click photo for more

Photo 12
Notes
Posted 1 year ago
A TEAR JERKER TO BE SURE. A HUNTERS POEM A hunter shot at a flock of geese That flew within his reach, Two were stopped in their rapid flight And fell on the sandy beach. The male bird lay at the water’s edge And just before he died, He faintly called to his wounded mate And she dragged herself to his side. She bent her head and crooned to him In a way distressed and wild, Caressing her one and only mate As a mother would a child. Then covering him with her broken wing And gasping with failing breath, She laid her head against his breast A feeble honk …then death! This story is true, though crudely told, I was the man in this case, I stood knee deep in snow and cold And the hot tears burned my face. I buried the birds in the sand where they lay, Wrapped in my hunting coat, And I threw my gun and belt in the bay When I crossed in the open boat. Hunters will call me a right poor sport And scoff at the thing I did, But that day something broke in my heart … And shoot again? God forbid!! by Lem Ward Zoom

A TEAR JERKER TO BE SURE.

A HUNTERS POEM

A hunter shot at a flock of geese 
That flew within his reach, 
Two were stopped in their rapid flight 
And fell on the sandy beach.

The male bird lay at the water’s edge 
And just before he died, 
He faintly called to his wounded mate 
And she dragged herself to his side.

She bent her head and crooned to him 
In a way distressed and wild, 
Caressing her one and only mate 
As a mother would a child.

Then covering him with her broken wing 
And gasping with failing breath, 
She laid her head against his breast 
A feeble honk …then death!

This story is true, though crudely told, 
I was the man in this case, 
I stood knee deep in snow and cold 
And the hot tears burned my face.

I buried the birds in the sand where they lay, 
Wrapped in my hunting coat, 
And I threw my gun and belt in the bay 
When I crossed in the open boat.

Hunters will call me a right poor sport 
And scoff at the thing I did, 
But that day something broke in my heart … 
And shoot again? God forbid!!

by Lem Ward