See you there, Saturday.
Yep, there are plenty of earlier seasons even here. But the real deal starts Saturday with chukar and quail opening on the high desert. And finally, it felt like it.
The grass crunched underfoot as I walked the back yard this morning. Frozen stiff.
I noticed the aspen leaves were now golden.
Icicles hung from the trees, the aftermath of a late-night watering and freezing temperatures.
And I had to wear a jacket while running the dogs this morning.
If those don’t scream “fall,” I don’t know what does. Oh yes I do: the whir of wings.
The first time you hunt chukers is for fun. The second time is for revenge.
Amen. Sore feet today for that reason.