Last weekend saw the end of duck hunting, the end of fall, really, as I see it. We didn't get out, being busy with other worthwhile pursuits, but we did make a last hunt the weekend before.
We set up on the west side of the river, bad because you face back into the rising sun, but thorough camouflage and plenty of overhanging vegetation on the steep bank mitigated the problem.
The ducks liked the spot we set up pretty well, so we had some birds dropping in, mostly right over our heads. Hard shooting, but fun.
That banded bird on the end picked up his jewelry two weeks earlier and twenty miles away. Not a whole lot of info for the biologists, I'm afraid.
Since it runs ninety days, I always feel like I have worlds of time when duck season starts. Lots of weekends to get out, chances to tweak the set up, find different spots, adjust to the ever-changing river. All of the sudden, the holidays are done and only a day or two is left. Looking back, we didn't make all that many hunts after all. I think there is a lesson in there about taking advantage of a situation while you can.