I damn near didn’t stop. I was driving a road that I rarely traveled, enroute to another piece of cover. It was a crisp, clear day towards the end of October, the kind of day you see in your mind’s eye when you dream about grouse and woodcock hunting. The leaves were mostly down; the air held enough of a bite to make you briefly consider adding another layer of clothing (a decision you knew you’d come to regret). My black-and-tan English cocker, Rumor, and I had hunted two covers, both reliable producers, and had one woodcock in the bag to show for our efforts.
It makes you feel rich
by Tom Davis - Thursday, Sep 16th, 2021