A Door in the Woods

A Door in the Woods

“Good boy, Rex, easy now. Whoa on the bird!” The gathering gloaming of the approaching evening made it rather difficult to see what I was doing as I fought my way through the wicked tangle of greenbrier vines draped across the dense trees in front of me. I struggled...
The Treasure of Simply Belonging

The Treasure of Simply Belonging

For restless years I harbored an unrequited craving for a 28 gauge. It came from reading too much Mcintosh, and misconceptions, perhaps, of life and love. In a hundred fantasies, the little 28 would come as breathlessly to shoulder as my high school heartthrob, a...
A Woman in White

A Woman in White

By all the laws of nature, George Blackwell should have quietly died of hypothermia in that very spot. But nature doesn’t always apply her laws with an even hand… At about the midpoint of his 67th season, George Blackwell looked at the world around him and...
Keeping the Uplands Alive During the Off-Season

Keeping the Uplands Alive During the Off-Season

These tips for making the most of your off-season time help get you out of the house and prepare for the upland bird hunting season ahead. Sadly enough, the upland hunting season has been over for some time. We pass the days reliving those memories in the field...
This Old House

This Old House

When the old house was occupied, its splintering walls were stout, its diminutive shelter a fortress of good spirits, its heartwood hale and its ambiance light with ale. Way long ago now, in the antediluvian and simplistic age in which I knew boyhood, circa. 1954,...
True Blue

True Blue

Grandma’s farm consisted of five acres, mostly wooded except for a half-acre garden loaded with berries and vegetables. Out back stood a shed stuffed with old rakes and spades and other hand tools. Mason jars were scattered among bushel and berry baskets filled with...
Finding Socrates

Finding Socrates

The story of how a boy found a stray puppy that went on to be a great pheasant dog for him and his dad. A dog surprised us the spring of my 10th birthday when Aunt Helen banged the screen door behind her. As she shuffled in the dark of dawn toward the Sunday paper, a...
Dad’s Browning

Dad’s Browning

“A poor man can only afford the best.” This was the mantra my father lived by. Dad was a professional firefighter for nearly 40 years in a midwestern town. A survivor of the Depression who lived on a farm without running water or electricity, he enlisted at age 17 to...