Cold, rainy morning. Slipped out back of the house at 11:00 am, and set up against some round bales in a hay field . No response to calling, waited a half hour and a bird gobbled just over the crest of the hill--less than a hundred yds away. Thought he was coming right in, but then he turned and walked out of sight while gobbling to every thing I thru at him. Darn!
Was carrying a nice little Lefever G grade Damascus 16 F/F with 1 oz RST 6's.
May try again tomorrow, or might go fishing--or hey, might do both. This quarantine thing is really complicating my life.
__________________
"How kind it is that most of us will never know when we have fired our last shot"--Nash Buckingham
|