Hunting Season

As I write, shotgun blasts are percolating across my auditory horizon as the Eastern Shore sportsmen take to their blinds in pursuit of various winged prey.  I'll be engaging in much the same pursuit with Mudge next week down in the Virginia portion of the Eastern Shore, with tales to tell afterward.  I'll be toting my new field piece, picked up this very week.

There's something about this time of year...far and away my favorite (with the exception of the week around Christmas).  The brilliance of the blue skies set against the fall colors of the leaves, the chill in the air that gives way to warm sunshine later in the day, eating dinner while it is dark outside and then feeling like it is immediately time for bed like some 19th century prairie family...not to mention the distant thud of 12 gauge's bringing down the evening meal.  For those who don't cotton to hunting, I'm sorry.  I know NO ONE here who does not A) eat what he kills or B) give what he kills to others who will eat it. 

A month from now, hunting season will still be on, but there won't be any leaves on trees, and sitting in a deer stand will become an exercise in self-control as one's body begins to freeze from the outside in.  But today--and hopefully next weekend--sublime.