Days that are still sometimes too warm and humid... Too many leaves still on the trees to make looking for birds very effective, but still quite beautiful...
Warm enough to hunt in a tee shirt, but not enough clothing to protect my neck from a game vest laden with too much unnecessary junk.
Humid enough to fog up shooting glasses with the slightest amount of exertion... Shooting glasses being a necessary evil to prevent cross-firing due to a God-given gift of a dominant right hand and a dominant left eye.
Warm and humid enough to promote the dreaded mouth breathing of the dog I depend on to find game..
But then, every once in a while the Red Gods smile on me and provide me a morning as pictured here, clear and cool with a hint of chill in the air... Colors beginning their mystical appearance on the sidehills.. Dogwork that once again restores my faith that things actually are right with the universe, and that the hours spent really are worth it.
We had, all in all, a beautiful opening week, made all the better by the visit of another thoughtful and inspired kindred spirit. The kind of folk that restores faith in humanity to a somewhat jaded psyche.
A more than successful start to another season...
Aw, shucks...
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