When Doves Cry

(I have that Prince song in my head and can't get it out!!!)

I recently heard someone say that a bad day spent hunting is better than a good day doing most other things. There is some truth to that. I don't have to be successful when I hunt to appreciate the activity. That being said, it is MUCH MORE FUN when the hunting is good - or at least action packed.

The dove season opened Saturday, Sept. 1 and I have hunted six times already. Most of my hunts were not very exciting. A couple of shots here and there, but no sustained action. Last year, I did a couple of guided (read: expensive) hunts and we would shoot a couple of boxes in a couple of hours; a box contains 25 shells. I haven't experienced anything like that this year - until today.

I spent the entire day in a large field that Dylan, his dad and I have hunted a couple of times this year. I started at 6:35am and had a couple of shots here and there till about 11:00am...I was alone by this point, so I decided to go get some lunch and to rehydrate. By the time I started hunting the field in earnest again it was 3:30am. I hadn't seen a dove in hours and was getting pretty bored.

However, at 4:00pm, something changed. All of a sudden I got flights of doves right towards me. First two, and another two, and another...then three, then four...I must have had 20 birds fly past me in a half hours time. Each were a perfect shot and I shot more than a box in this time, and finally harvested my first bird. If I was a good shot, I would have limited out (15 is a day's bag limit).

I've seen several sunrises, a couple of sunsets, and have thoroughly enjoyed nature and family, but that one bird beats 'em all!

SL