In recent years I have been slowly becoming disenchanted with
waterfowling. I guess too much time on internet forums reading about
everyone's complaints and arguments with one another about this or
that and the way they think things ought to be have really brought me
down. This compounded by the loss of almost every area I have hunted
all of my life to the invasive grass species known as frag. I see
rudeness and arguing at the boat ramp, while everyone hustles to try
to beat the next guy to a spot that he probably doesn’t even know
about. Many things have changed. It is enough to sour even my usual
optimism, and I have let it. In all of that change the magic had just
disappeared for me. When the season started this year I didn't care
if I ever hunted ducks again. It troubled me that I had lost it this
bad. I have spent my life hunting ducks and learning how to call
them, and now I have no interest? What is wrong with me? I had to
find a way to rediscover the magic. I searched for it with many
questions.
What is the magic of waterfowl that draws us in even to
obsession? I don't feel it is piling up ducks and geese, and taking a
great glory shot at the end of the day. I don't think it is buying
and collecting all the equipment that fills our garages and drives
our wives crazy. Though it is true that I haven’t been compelled to
buy much lately. I have changed the way I hunt to be able to get
away from the crowds on public land. I guess I just don’t use that
much equipment these days. Sure its about spending time with family
and friends, but there is more, and whatever more is has really been
missing. Its not that my hunts have been poor in recent years I have
had some great hunts. I have shot some really nice limits of
Mallards. Maybe that is my problem. Maybe my obsession with one
species of duck has brought me to humdrum. Perhaps I need to go back
to a day when I just hunted ducks. Goleneyes, scaups, shovelers,
rudys, merganzers, or teal it didn’t matter back then. I would take
any legal duck, and I see a lot of guys that get a great thrill out
of that. I'm not sure what the answer is, but on a hunt recently I
might have scratched the surface.
In an isolated piece of habitat in the middle of nowhere that
few know about and even fewer hunt I sat alone trying to find these
things that have been missing. As I sat I realized that this sweet
isolation is one of the things I have missed. There was no noise at
all save the subtle sounds of nature. No trucks, no highway, no motor
boats, not even the sound of a distant airplane could be heard. I
could hear a woodpecker doing his thing. I could hear waves of
blackbirds breaking the air with so many tiny wings that they make a
huge whoosh sound as they go by. Occasionally a fish would splash
about and I would wondered if I could catch any in this place if I
were to try. At sunset this was all that was going on. I picked up my
decoys walked out to the edge of the water and sat down as I started
seeing and hearing big groups of ducks coming. I watched those birds
pitch in with the backdrop of the setting sun as though it was my
first time. I sat there listening to the mallards making all the
sounds that I have studied for most of my adult life. Their many
voices ringing so effortlessly from all around. I would giggle just a
little each time one would make a sound that took me so much effort
and time to learn. I sat until the sunset turned black and the ducks
fell quiet. I then tip toed out as if to not disturb their sleep. It
turns out I still love those ducks, and I guess I always will.
I'm not sure I discovered the missing magic of waterfowling, but
I did rediscover the love of the bird, and the habitat in which it
lives. Next year I am going to go on a goose hunt and maybe a diver
shoot. It has been many years since I have done those things. Perhaps
this will help re-energize me.
