Fore!!

Fore!!! Now thats a sound I haven't heard for months, at least as far back as mid November. I've heard plenty of flocks of geese flying overhead recently but not the sound of 'Fore'.

Today however, the sound of common-or-garden lesser talented handicap hunters (ie golfers) was warbling through the air. Now that grass has reappeared, the golfers are returning from their enforced hibernation from the snow and ice. Shaking off the dust from being reluctantly dragged by their partners round shopping centres or from staring at weather forecasts hoping for an improvement in conditions, they returned to the fairways and greens.

Of course the much rarer of the golfing species - the greater talented tournament players - are immune from bad weather. They migrate across the globe flying from sunny country to sunny country to pursue their quest for fame and perfection. They only arrive on these shores in summer for the major tournaments. Good luck to them. It looks like a fantastic lifestyle.

That leaves those who aspire to that status to perch over the tee and swoop over the fairway and hover over the greens in search of a better hanidcap.

You can probably tell I don't play golf (despite living near some of the most famous courses in the world). But I enjoy watching others play even if it does from time to time mean I have to 'beware before' when walking the dog around the edge of the course as the golfers hit their tee shots.