You and all the other animals of the village will no longer be startled by loud blasts of old guns, nor will the smell of gunpowder hang over the fields for days like an autumn mist.
I will certainly miss that delightful and wonderfully spiced pie the Earl brings me every year.
Ramiro, the old poacher, chuckled as he confided in me: "That recent obligation to wear fluorescent vests while hunting was too much for the Earl."