Posted by on Sep 10, 2012 in Featured | 0 comments

“Here’s something I’ve never told anyone before — just occasionally when I’m pottering with a few chores, I’ll pass that coat hanging on its hook by the mud room door. It’s had a few deer carried down on it by now. If there’s a moment to spare I’ll pick up a sleeve and breathe in the leftover scent of something subtle and elusive, something that speaks of the vast silent valleys, the rush of clear cold water on rock, the harrier wheeling on his thermal against a backdrop of snow and piercing blue sky.

I breathe it and am there again.”

Hunting New Zealand – Parts Unknown