The Evening Report.
Just before daybreak, the temp was a cool 10 degrees. I prefer 20 degrees for fishing. But with only 2 more days left of duck hunting, 10 degrees will do fine.
All that it really meant was adding one more layer to my gear.
The stars lingered, or so it seemed, in the night sky. But the chilly delay was rewarded with the sound of ducks racing down Duck Creek, like Ferrari's on the freeway.
There is one surefire way to stop a duck. Mechanically. I would have stopped a second duck had my ejector on the scattergun not frozen up.
Duck is cooking on the stove. I will either end the season with another mallard or perhaps a goose. This requires two different blinds. Which one I will use will not be decided until the morning.
Duck hunting gets me out of the house and into the woods. A local stream is perfect duck habitat and that is where I wait for them.
I see other critters while posting guard over that shallow water. A mink is usually the first critter of the day. Monroe, the eagle, also keeps an eye out over the same waterway.
Eagles hunt ducks just like humans do.
When the temps are cold, a mist rolls across the surface of the stream. It does not stay still like fog does, it is on the move, just like the living water of the stream.
I hear ducks before I can see them. The wind whistles in their wings. Their subtle splash as they land on the water can be heard by those who are listening. Some early morning duck crow like a rooster, announcing a new day.
There are more wood ducks than mallards, the latter being a larger bird. Canada geese are a plenty. They also make plenty of noise.
We have no standing snow. The lakes are not usually not frozen over until Christmas. Ice fishing comes after duck hunting. The winter ends with the advent of maple syrup production.
Every new day is a gift from God. Enjoy each one.