September’s Lessons

September’s Lessons

It was the kind of heat that has weight—like an enormous hand pressing down. Every so often a puffy cloud would pass, obscuring the sun and providing a few moments of blessed relief. But then the sky would clear, the sun’s unblinking gaze would hammer down once again,...

Home Coming Whitetails

Home Coming Whitetails

The rustle of fallen white oak leaves littering the ground 30 feet below demanded my immediate attention. There, patches of brown moved. A deer! Heartbeat racing! Breathing? I am not certain I even took a breath.  A solid hour before first light and under the cover of...

Down On the Border: Mearns’ Quail

Down On the Border: Mearns’ Quail

I’d been following my Brittany, Tess, through the steep, rocky canyons of southeastern Arizona’s Coronado National Forest for the better part of an hour when her bell fell silent. I found her upslope—bug-eyed, trembling and stretched out on point—at the base of a live...

Fair Winds, My Brother: Daufuskie Family

Fair Winds, My Brother: Daufuskie Family

Forget about deer stands,” he said. “Just boost your woman high up in a live oak late in the afternoon. That way you’ll know she’ll still be there when you come to fetch her home after sunset.”  We were on his front porch, out of the wind on a chilly afternoon, easing...

Black Dog Handlers

Black Dog Handlers

For the past 43 years, on the first Monday in March, after the close of bobwhite quail season on the fabled plantations of the Red Hills Region that that spans Tallahassee, Florida, north to Thomasville, Georgia, the invitation-only Georgia-Florida Shooting Dog...