One of the main reasons I go hunting at night is so that I can press my brain’s reset button. I generally keep my phone on silent, so no one is able to take me to task for not putting the washing-up away, failing to respond to an email, or whatever. I find that being surrounded by everything from rabbits to roe deer, and covertly watching them through the thermal in my own version of a David Attenborough epic is just so relaxing.
Until I walk into an unseen electric fence, that is. Then I’m suddenly jolted – or should that
