Reminiscences and Ramblings of a Novice Wing-Shooter
It was the First of September, 2019 and there I sat, in the pre-dawn twilight, half asleep and fighting the near irresistible temptation, provided by the comfortable blanket of darkness that enveloped me, to “rest my eyes”. I guess that’s what you get for having longtime friends (and, soon-to-be hunting companions) over the night before, staying up entirely too late and then “arising” (if you want to call it that) with a groan at one o’clock in order for us to make the trip and get a choice spot on the burnt wheat field that we were going to hunt. There was no cat-napping to be had, however, for with a sense of anticipation akin to a kid on Christmas morning, I was “wound for sound”! It was Missouri’s Dove Season Opener – “Dovemas”, as I’ve jokingly referred to it among friends.
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