Soggy and miserable, first light in the woodlands felt less like light and more like a darkening cavern. Mother Nature drizzled rain down the barrel of my little 20 gauge while wind rattled tree limbs above. Only slim minutes stood between being damp and swimming in my clothing. My father and brother sat together a few yards away to my upper right to cover one half of the fallow field, and I to cover the left.
Belting his lustful dominance, one lone gobbler answered my father’s call. Driven by hormones and the looming precipitation, he wasted no time jumping from the roost to court this lonely hen. My father whispered in coarse command