Every Fall I stop and think back to memories of my youth and how things are changed. We all have hundreds of them. Three stuck out in my mind yesterday. The smell of Red Dot powder, smoke coming out of a freshly fired paper hull. The taste of eating a purple top turnip, freshly pulled from the field, dirt mostly wiped off, still cool from the early frost while trailing a young pointer. The sound of wings in the marsh about ten minutes before first light. It sounds like every duck in the World is trying too find a safe place to land before shooting time. What a sound.
Plastic shells just don't smell the same to me even when loaded with Red Dot. I have not seen a patch of turnips, planted after corn in 40 years. And sad to say while the ducks may still fly before first light my hearing is not what it use to be. I can still hear them but they don't sound like feathered jet engines making my heart race like their wings.
What are your three best memories?
