Back when I was a kid living at home I hunted every day in the Fall of the year after the chores were done. I would get off the School bus on a run, bust into the house, change clothes, grab my gun, a handful of shells, a bottle of Big Red and head for the barn. Feed the cows, fill the water tanks for the hogs and check the feeders to make sure the hogs still had feed. This activity was being repeated at my best friends farm which butted up to ours. We would meet at the fencerow and walk it to flush any grouse or rabbits on our way to the woods to squirrel hunt. We didn't worry about Cammo hunting outfits ( we didn't have any ),we wore what we had, blue jeans and flannel shirts and denim chore coats. Our cover scents were cow and hog manure, yet, we still were able to harvest our share of game with youthful enthusiasm. The Sun filtering down through the White Oak and Maple leaves that were a brighter orange than the Sun itself was warm on our faces and that bottle of Red Pop was the perfect drink to sip on while we waited on Mr. Bushytail to show himself. No matter who shot what, it was divided up equal to take home when our Mom's yelled out that it was time for Supper, and we would slowly trudge back to our houses to eat and afterwards do our homework, wishing that we were still in the woods.
Brian
Brian