Experimental Type S18

Image Morgue

Current Draft of Copy: Wake up with a smile; think of what the day has in store. Get dressed in warm clothes and waders; grab the gun, pack, and decoys and head out the door.

Drive to the hunting ground; the smell of swamp in the morning. Unpack the truck and walk out to the best spot, your spot.

Get in the cold water and set up a pattern of decoys to draw the ducks in. This early the mud is still hard enough, frozen enough, to walk on.

Load the gun and wait; listen, watch, anicipate. Reflect, prepare.

It’s almost time, here comes the sun; a beautiful sunrise. Ducks are awake, calling from all around.

They start to fly. One here, one there; right overhead! Three seconds. Two. One! “It’s Time!” Bang! Bang! Bang! “I got one!” “Reload here come some more!”

Go Retrieve the ducks. They landed on the other side of the water. Stepping into the cold water again and sinking into the mud. The mud is more than sticky, it’s grabbing, pulling. Almost every step a struggle, once in a while the ground is a bit harder, easier to step on. There it is! Grab the duck and head back to shore. Getting back is no easier than going out, except that carrying the bounty gives a bit of vigor, vitality, stamina. Retrieval isn’t always easy.

A few more rounds. A few more ducks. Not long after, the hunting day is done. Retrieve the decoys, pick up the spent shells. Pack up the ducks; a good variety, bounteous day.

Walk back. Triumphant. Drive home.

Clean the ducks: Pluck their feathers, cut the meat. Get out the recipe book, which recipe? That looks good. Cook it up, hear it sizzle. Take in the Aroma. How pleasant, savoury.

“Dinner!” The family gathers around the table to help put on the last few dishes. Everyone takes their seat. Bless the food. Pass it around, plenty for everyone. Smiling faces. This is Joy.

Dinner’s done, time for bed. Gun is clean. Stomach is full. Alarm is set. Bed is Warm. Sleeping with a smile. Another great day tomorrow!

This is Duck Hunting.