All along the watchtowers

Travelling by coach around communist Poland in the 1970s, I'd see these wooden structures dotted around forests and fields; I reasoned that these must be watchtowers – lookout posts for internal security troops guarding strategic installations hidden behind the trees... my reasoning was that since these didn't exist in the UK and the UK was a free country whilst Poland wasn't, they could only serve a sinister purpose. But as it happens, these are hunters' 'pulpits' (ambona łowiecka). It's from up here that brave hunters shoot the local wildlife. Below: the nearest pulpit to my działka, near Machcin II.

Below: getting close... I explore, shinning up the ladder. There's a latch on the bottom left of the door, it's not locked. I lift it, open the door and enter.

Below: getting in. There are three windows, each has a hinged blind opening downwards. All three were left open, suggesting to me that this spell of dry, sunny weather was a good time to air the pulpit after the winter. The sun, getting lower in the sky, shines through a crack in the wood.

Below: here's the pulpit in January. The hunting season in Poland runs from autumn to the end of February; exact dates vary according to prey (hare, female deer, pheasants etc).

Below: here's one in the Las Watraszewski forest; note the construction of each one differs. This one looks decidedly ramshackle.

Below: here's one in Zgorzała, photo taken in April 2020, when the world was in lockdown. This one has a clear corrugated plastic roof.

Below: view from inside – note the encroaching housing estate across the field.

Below: by December 2020, it had toppled over. Google Maps imagery from this earlier this year suggests it's still lying over there.

Below: close encounter with a hare, Jakubowizna (taken with Nikkor kit lens zoomed out to 55mm – that close!). It came running towards me – stopped, looked behind it, hesitating for a second (note its stance) then turned to its right to dash past me at a close distance. A split second later, a fox ran into view. It had evidently been chasing the hare and the hare had decided that I was the lesser threat. The fox, on seeing me, turned around and sprinted off the other way. Fate had intervened. 

How can one shoot to kill sentient life? Let it live. Let it share in experiencing consciousness. 

BONUS SHOT below: 16 May, early evening. Just round the corner from the Machcin pulpit, a young male deer sporting a pair of proto-antlers. With the wind blowing towards me, I got in quite close before the deer turned and ran.

EXTRA DOUBLE BONUS below: 18 May, morning. Closer to home, between orchard rows of apple trees that lead down to Grobice, a young male and young female deer together.

Whenever I hear gunshots in the forest in winter, I sincerely hope the hunter missed.

UPDATE 19 MAY: You may be forgiven for thinking that the hunters are out in force, with all the gunshots out there. But these are not guns; they are bird-scarers, pneumatic devices making the sound of a gunshot at random intervals. The strawberries and cherries are ripening, starlings and wood-pigeons are getting ready to feast.

This time last year:
Blossom, sunshine and trains, Chynów

This time two years ago:
A better tomorrow for the soul

This time three years ago:
Blossom time in Jakubowizna - the apples

This time five years ago:

The Ice Saints - right on cue

This time nine years ago:

Then and now: Trafalgar Square (recreating my father's photos)

This time 11 years ago:
Reflection upon the City Car

This time 13 years ago:
Biblical sky

This time 14 years ago:
Travel broadens the spirit

This time 15 years ago:
Welcome the Ice Saints

This time 17 years ago:
On the farm next door