Duck Hunt...

 I forget some times how much I like to duck hunt. I only do it once or twice a year. Hunting is something my Dad taught me to do and when I am doing it I remember old long forgotten knowledge and skills that lay deep ingrained in my old noggin. First photo is my old Winchester shotgun. I think maybe I got it for Christmas when I was 16 or 17 years old. The ducks are blue bills, a hen and a drake. I breasted them out, saved the legs and Cathy fried it all for supper, making a thick wild game gravy served over rice. Very tasty.
















Maybe you can make out the bird in this second photo. Possibly   a diving duck of some kind. I let him pass. My Dad used to call these "diedippers." Don't know if that is really it's name or not. There's some photos in my bird book that match up to this being some type of loon.

Not ducks, our decoys. I did not see this many, only about 8 ducks total. The other day when fishing during the closed portion of the season I saw 25 or more ducks in this area. Of course not many around when I hunt. That's the way it goes. I mainly put these dekes out to keep birds from landing here. I had hoped they would see them and have the confidence to land where I wanted. This strategy worked a little bit.

 Juan walks the lake edge. I showed him this photo. He needs to loose the light brown hat. Ducks see that a mile off.

As an added bonus we each found a crank bait in good condition hung in the brush by bass fishermen when the lake was a normal pool level. It's only a little low right now at what I think is a perfect level for duck hunting.