homesick for fall. Looking through pictures of hunts past can help some but the reality is September is still a ways out. It is terrible. The lawnmower and weedeater dominates weekends. The freezer has store bought meat in it and my favorite Over and Under stinks of cleaning solvent instead of burned powder. Summer has a few positives but you can keep them. My soul needs the therapeutic jingle of the dogs tags as he runs by desperately searching for a nose full of the intoxicating scent of bird that inspires his very being. The view of an open mountain valley first coming into view as I top the ridge breathing hard and reaching deep to have made it to the top of yet another peak. To spot that Setter tail standing white and tall over the brush letting me know it was all worth while, and the sense of accomplishment that comes over me every time my dog does well. I need the thrust of wings escaping the cover. The jet like noises of mallards breaking the sky descending in response to my calling and the site of my spread. The smell of pond mud at daybreak. I need cold mornings and frost on my boots. I need sunsets full of duck silhouettes. I want chukar teasing me with that relentless giggle from above....chuk chuk chuk chuk. I will find you red legged devil! I need a heavy dose of cackling roosters, screeching huns, and giggling sharptails. A whole season full of new old experiences, and I need it sooner rather than later. I guess fishing might be a patch, but my soul wont be completely healthy until fall
I guess I can make it through the summer but it isn't easy.
