Confessions of an addict.

So today is July eighth and I had to look because my insomnia kept me up past midnight again maybe tomorrow. But in the last few hours my mind has traveled afar to many spots not one of which was a drinking establishment but a few bars a rock one and a few sand and mud bars. I may be in the complete grasp of my original addiction the duck hunting addiction. Maybe I drank to keep those summer thoughts out of my head but I think that may have been one of the reasons for my time not spent thinking of the pursuit of feathered friends with good canine and human companionship. In pondering the multitude of ways to improve decoy rigging and efficiency possibilities of blinds and sand bar setups . I thought I was nearing madness until I remembered a few weeks ago one of my fellow hunters commented he was re-rigging and going through his decoys in June so my case is a July case not as severe as a June case.

Through all of this thinking my mind often drifted to hunting experiences and they have been numerous but the ones popping in mind were not the 15 minute limits or the 20,000 mallards landing in a pothole they were the meager limit of three bluebills from a rock bar in in gale or the two wood ducks “stocked and spied” on a timbered pond and even the hand full of teal during a day on the river one Indian Summer. Interesting how the more meager days with friends are the ones that last not the big days with fools or the shootouts on the plains that are the burning images that drive my madness. So for today I will continue think of better decoy rigging strategies and good cord and fall days on the water hopefully I will drift to dream about them soon.