I knew it. I called it last week. Duck season hasn’t been over 1 week, and I am already wondering what to do with my weekends… And Wednesday mornings. Duck hunting is so much more fun than working in an office. And don’t act like you don’t agree with me. I am already missing the layers of clothing stuffed into my waders, the mega-pack of hand warmers that is no longer, and the exciting feeling of refilling my shell belt at 5:30 am before a hunt.

But, I digress. Like I mentioned, there haven’t been a great many ducks around the area in the past few weeks, as it typically happens with the season coming to a close. That wasn’t going to stop this crowd from giving it our best efforts. Needless to say, we made our last 3 hunts count, even if we didn’t have the ducks to show for it.. And by “3,” I mean one weekday morning hunt, alllllll day Saturday, and alllllll day Sunday. With, of course, a break or two to have some breakfast and steam some oysters during our last hoorah.

We laughed, we ate, and we sat through an insane rainstorm, too stubborn to call the hunt quits just in case another duck or two flew by. Davis and I actually managed to hit a hen ring neck at the exact same time as it was flying towards the decoys. Once we folded it, it’s forward momentum did not decrease, and it nearly landed in the blind. Instead, it hit the water right next to us with a splash like a fat kid’s belly flop. At least we had some entertainment in the 40* driving rain, right?