Jon Yenulonis
Well-known member
My opening morning ramblings...
The morning started out with me having a little less than stellar desire. Warm weather, the fact that my little space of heaven on earth, (actually a very mature Beaver Pond), has reached it's life expectancy and is drying up, and a few other minor factors just limited my wanting to get up and go. Was it Steve Sanford who recently quipped something like- "I never wished I didn't go"? Well, with that phrase playing over and over in my head like a broken record, (anyone remember records?), I got out of bed and headed out anyways.
Got to the dwindling marsh as usual for opening morning. I decided to sit near a rather large, rather beautifully plumed swamp bush of some sort, located near the middle of the figure eight shaped quagmire of mud, water and duckweed. The time is now about ten minutes before legal shooting time. It's a dark, overcast morning, albeit a little, correction, make that a LOT warmer than I would have liked at around sixty degrees. First sounds I really became aware of were two Great Horned Owls singing to each other in the not too distant woods immediately in front of me. Slightly to my left was a tiny Screech owl doing his own version of singing. Contrary to the Horned Owls, I can clearly understand why the little birds are known as "screech" owls. Their call sounds more like a distress scream than a hoot like other owls. Next on the "notice-o-meter", was the amount of Killdeers present. Killdeers are early risers and we could clearly hear their calls long before we could, well "I" could see them. My trusty canine companion may have better night vision than me. As I stated earlier, this marsh is not only very mature, it too has been hit with the local drought as of late. Hence there are several small mud flats here and there. These little mud flats were chock full of these active, and noisy little shorebirds.
As it turned out, unfortunately for us, we may have arrived about ten minutes too early. Soon after we settled in, a flock of about two dozen local Canadas decided to leave the swamp and fly right over our heads. While I could certainly hear them, I couldn't really see them until almost directly overhead and silhouetted against the early morning sky. I have to wonder if they would have left a little later had we not disturbed them. These locals usually don't trade until well after legal time.
Not too soon after legal shooting time, and still no birds, we could clearly hear a buck deer tearing the heck out of a sapling across the way. We couldn't see the deer, but we could see the brush moving and easily make out the sound of fresh antlers against tree trunk.
Another thing I soon noticed was the lack of nearby shooting. There are a few marshes and fields within hearing range that usually provide us with a little early morning entertainment. Sometimes I may know someone nearby and we will text or call each other for updates. Not so on this morning.
About an hour into the morning, a pair of Woodies cruised by close enough for a shot. I picked out the drake and squeezed off a shot, or rather two shots. I connected on the second, but only slightly as the bird set his wings and sailed about a hundred yards across the swamp. Now, in this old marsh, to get a hundred yards, one has to actually traverse about three hundred, very difficult yards. No problem. I packed up, took off my jacket and set afoot with Annie in tow. We arrived at the spot where the bird was last seen and it didn't take long for my trusty, although young and inexperienced Black Lab Female to catch up with and jump the bird along the shore. Unfortunately for me, there was a little spit of land and brush between us and I couldn't visually witness the beginning of the chase. I could, however, hear by the commotion exactly what was happening by the sounds. First recognizable sound I heard was the flapping of a crippled bird's wings on the water. next I could clearly make out the charge and plunge of the pup. By the time I worked my way the twenty or so feet to see what was going on, here is this Wood Duck swimming as fast as it could with my little pup hot on it's tail. Now normally, I don't like to see crippled or suffering animals, there wasn't a whole lot I could do at the moment, so I just stood there and let Annie learn a little about chasing a cripple. She would gain on the little bird and every time she would get close enough to clamp down on it, he would either dive or attempt to fly and get away. This went on for probably close to ten minutes before I final felt comfortable enough with space and angle to fire a fatal shot. I could almost hear her sigh in relief as the bird stopped swimming so frantically. First bird of the year, and first Bird retrieve in a long time was finished in fairly acceptable fashion. Not perfect, but very acceptable.
During the chase, I was actually able to snap a rather fuzzy photo-
So all in all, maybe not a stellar morning by some people's standards, I was OK with it. Got to witness a few sights and sounds I SURE would have missed had I stayed home, I was able to bring home a pretty decent appetizer for tomorrow's dinner, and my young dog got a chance to learn a little about chasing a crippled duck in a swamp.
Thanks for reading,
Jon
The morning started out with me having a little less than stellar desire. Warm weather, the fact that my little space of heaven on earth, (actually a very mature Beaver Pond), has reached it's life expectancy and is drying up, and a few other minor factors just limited my wanting to get up and go. Was it Steve Sanford who recently quipped something like- "I never wished I didn't go"? Well, with that phrase playing over and over in my head like a broken record, (anyone remember records?), I got out of bed and headed out anyways.
Got to the dwindling marsh as usual for opening morning. I decided to sit near a rather large, rather beautifully plumed swamp bush of some sort, located near the middle of the figure eight shaped quagmire of mud, water and duckweed. The time is now about ten minutes before legal shooting time. It's a dark, overcast morning, albeit a little, correction, make that a LOT warmer than I would have liked at around sixty degrees. First sounds I really became aware of were two Great Horned Owls singing to each other in the not too distant woods immediately in front of me. Slightly to my left was a tiny Screech owl doing his own version of singing. Contrary to the Horned Owls, I can clearly understand why the little birds are known as "screech" owls. Their call sounds more like a distress scream than a hoot like other owls. Next on the "notice-o-meter", was the amount of Killdeers present. Killdeers are early risers and we could clearly hear their calls long before we could, well "I" could see them. My trusty canine companion may have better night vision than me. As I stated earlier, this marsh is not only very mature, it too has been hit with the local drought as of late. Hence there are several small mud flats here and there. These little mud flats were chock full of these active, and noisy little shorebirds.
As it turned out, unfortunately for us, we may have arrived about ten minutes too early. Soon after we settled in, a flock of about two dozen local Canadas decided to leave the swamp and fly right over our heads. While I could certainly hear them, I couldn't really see them until almost directly overhead and silhouetted against the early morning sky. I have to wonder if they would have left a little later had we not disturbed them. These locals usually don't trade until well after legal time.
Not too soon after legal shooting time, and still no birds, we could clearly hear a buck deer tearing the heck out of a sapling across the way. We couldn't see the deer, but we could see the brush moving and easily make out the sound of fresh antlers against tree trunk.
Another thing I soon noticed was the lack of nearby shooting. There are a few marshes and fields within hearing range that usually provide us with a little early morning entertainment. Sometimes I may know someone nearby and we will text or call each other for updates. Not so on this morning.
About an hour into the morning, a pair of Woodies cruised by close enough for a shot. I picked out the drake and squeezed off a shot, or rather two shots. I connected on the second, but only slightly as the bird set his wings and sailed about a hundred yards across the swamp. Now, in this old marsh, to get a hundred yards, one has to actually traverse about three hundred, very difficult yards. No problem. I packed up, took off my jacket and set afoot with Annie in tow. We arrived at the spot where the bird was last seen and it didn't take long for my trusty, although young and inexperienced Black Lab Female to catch up with and jump the bird along the shore. Unfortunately for me, there was a little spit of land and brush between us and I couldn't visually witness the beginning of the chase. I could, however, hear by the commotion exactly what was happening by the sounds. First recognizable sound I heard was the flapping of a crippled bird's wings on the water. next I could clearly make out the charge and plunge of the pup. By the time I worked my way the twenty or so feet to see what was going on, here is this Wood Duck swimming as fast as it could with my little pup hot on it's tail. Now normally, I don't like to see crippled or suffering animals, there wasn't a whole lot I could do at the moment, so I just stood there and let Annie learn a little about chasing a cripple. She would gain on the little bird and every time she would get close enough to clamp down on it, he would either dive or attempt to fly and get away. This went on for probably close to ten minutes before I final felt comfortable enough with space and angle to fire a fatal shot. I could almost hear her sigh in relief as the bird stopped swimming so frantically. First bird of the year, and first Bird retrieve in a long time was finished in fairly acceptable fashion. Not perfect, but very acceptable.
During the chase, I was actually able to snap a rather fuzzy photo-
So all in all, maybe not a stellar morning by some people's standards, I was OK with it. Got to witness a few sights and sounds I SURE would have missed had I stayed home, I was able to bring home a pretty decent appetizer for tomorrow's dinner, and my young dog got a chance to learn a little about chasing a crippled duck in a swamp.
Thanks for reading,
Jon
