Snow!

I sat for a couple of hours last night with my bow in a ground blind adjacent to a wildlife opening. At six o'clock four deer materialized opposite from me - two adult does and a couple of little deer born this year.

That would constitute a small herd.

Raising my bow and clipping on the release I waited for them to cross the opening and exit into the woods on their well worn trail adjacent to the blind.

Yet all they did was fiddle fart. The adults actually reared-up and boxed each other for a bit.

I wondered what that was all about.

Impatient with their lack of cooperation and rapidly losing my light I though maybe a call might bring them closer. You know - make them fatally curious.

I think to myself - Grunt or bleat? Grunt or bleat? These are girl deer so go for the bleat.

If any of you hunt deer you're probably familiar with The Can. It replicates the sound of a deer bleating. Which for any of you non hunters sounds just like a sheep bleating.

I give them a bleat.

And the responses is - No way do we like the sound of that. We're out of here.

They all skedaddle.

Darkness falls with no other deer to be seen. But as the sun disappears a raucous chorus fills the darkening woods. Chirping and squawking like I haven't heard for awhile.

Doodle birds!

On the half-mile walk back to the house I flushed no less than eleven woodcock from the grassy trail. And there were uncounted more of them in the alders and willows around me.

I'm thinking - Hey. They've been feeding all day and they're staging for their night migration flight. I better get out tomorrow with the dog and take a long walk and see if we can't bag some of these guys. They're all over the freak'n place.

Today it dawned cold. Thirty two degrees was the overnight low and the weather guessers are predicting an overnight low of twenty tonight.

As I tap-out this post it is snowing. Yes, a genuine snow squall.

Girlfriend and I are going out to hunt woodcock in the snow.

More later...