Beach Kit |
I went for an armed stroll over at what my philisophical friend, GWB, calls "The Beach." The Beach is this swampy, snakey series of ponds out by Brandon. I thought that there might be fish and possibly dove or other small game, maybe squirrels, rabbits, even an unwiley coyote or a careless hog. You never know.
Gangland |
So I got all quiet and tactical and went to scout out the Beach; there were plenty of dog tracks in the dark earth, which was still wet from all too rare rain. A big coyote had passed through recently and as I pondered that I saw a gang of turkeys. They were very unafraid and would have been an easy shot in season. I'll remember that spot for later in the year.
Spot the Bird |
At the Beach proper I was disappointed to see there weren't any fish, but there was a large turtle who eyed me quizzically from the turgid depths of the pond. The air was thick with dragon flies and I waited, still, in the silence, which became loud with insects and birds.
The Beach |
If I'd waited long enough something would have shown up and I would have shot it, but I picked my way through the swampy brush, keeping an eye out for arrowheads and associated archeology. You never know what you'll find, certainly not any dove, annoyingly.
I see there's a Putinist subculture in America. Well go figure.
Good hunting,
LSP
2 comments:
Sometimes there's game and fish and sometimes there isn't. Sometimes you can dangle a nightcrawler on a Bass' mouth and they won't bite it for love nor money.
A metaphor for life.
i like that metaphor, LL.
Post a Comment