Wednesday, December 7, 2011
I Am A Duck Hunter.
The photo was taken a century ago, when photos were a time consuming, expensive production. Take a close look. What did he wear? His hunting coat, rubber waders, cap, and a badass moustache. Hunting -- and family -- obviously defined this man.
and my son (mostly through the enthusiasm in which he's holding the gun and enjoying himself outdoors).
So there's no doubt I come by this avocation naturally. But while my whole family slogged through the oxbows and sandbars of Nebraska's Platte River, I gravitated to upland pursuits. Not sure how that happened.
It doesn't really matter. Next week, my dad -- and my son -- will converge on Waldenburg, Arkansas for a duck hunt. I am blessed with some awesome hunting opportunities every season, but I can't help but circle this one on the calendar as the most anticipated.
I was never lucky enough to hunt with my own Gramps -- I was in college on his last duck hunt, but was told he showed up in a traditional 1940s necktie and hunting coat. No matter. Those men, and other family members, will be close to us this next week, as we tell stories, uphold traditions, and indoctrinate the young ones. As it should be.
I am one fortunate man. I suspect we all have a similar story. Here's to the hunting man.