Nostalgia Duck Hunt

[Kevin McCormack]

One crystal clear bluebird day not quite cold enough my older brother and I were sitting in a nice blind on a feeder creek just off Crab Alley Creek just off Eastern Bay on Kent Island on MD's Eastern Shore. We set a nice decoy rig out but there was almost no wind and the temperature climbed steadily just after sunrise. About 9:30, after our usual 30 or so cups of coffee we decided to call it and pull the rig. Each of us exited our end of the blind and walked about 10 paces from it. Our guns sat upright in each corner of the blind as we relieved ourselves, backs to the creek and facing the woods. Deep in bodily function reverie, I heard two distinct splashes, like water balloons hitting the lawn in summer. I whispered, "Think we can get to them in time?" He hoarse-whispered back; "NOW!" We both did our best renditions of quarterbacks diving into the endzone to get our guns. Both ducks, huge Blackducks, blasted off like fired out of a cannon and hit the afterburners around 15 feet off the water. Each of us gave them a Hail Mary, more of a desultory salute to our oft-repeated waterfowl hunter's mantra: NEVER leave the blind without a gun!