Things change. When I was a teenager I invited the local Presbyterian minister duck hunting. He came and killed a couple green heads. No preacher would dare to hunt these days because half the church members would be up in arms.

Hunting is a way I connect with my past, my family, both here and long gone. This year I watched my middle son recover a cripple black duck in the same blind I watched his great grand father recover a canvasback cripple 51 years earlier. In the end he got it just like grandfather did. Dont know if his son will hunt with him but Ill make sure the land stays in the family for all to hunt. Ill also share memories about family and friends who hunted here before them.