Doves didn't open until noon, so to help pass the time during the morning, I took a few pics with the neat little Leica P&S camera I use when I am hunting (as opposed to guiding) and I can’t carry the big DSLR.
We live out in the country, but I was born 61 years ago in the nearest town - a little Colonial era steel town named Birdsboro. At the end of WWII, three families lived together in an old half-a-double house and I was born right there.
We Birdsbirdians once made cannons for George Washington – I still have charcoal circles in my woods from that effort. Sadly, after more than 250 years of contributing to America, the industry is dead.
Birdsbirdians are big on Daniel Boone – he was born near here. The ball field where I sometimes played as a little kid overlooks Birdsboro Armor Cast – a vast factory where Sherman tanks were made in WWII.
Rosie the Riveter went past this guard post on her way to work and her time cards can be found there still neatly in the slots.
The plant must be a mile long and has four massive bays, with countless outbuildings, all built like fortresses to last for a hundred years, but it only operated for a few years during the war.
Here’s one of the bays – note the massive 75 ton cranes. They are yours to play with – no one around.
There are buildings and equipment of all sorts inside the plant – and it all sits empty and moldering.
My little home town has well-kept mansions from the glory days when Birdsboro Steel was known around the world:
Even though the industry is gone, we still fly a lot of American flags here in Birdsboro:
The old town is interesting and maybe someday I’ll show you more of it, but I’m a country person and I love the mountains and fields here in PA Dutchland. This is part of one of the several Hartman farms (not mine – they belong to relatives):
There are a great many beautiful 18th Century stone PA Dutch farm houses and barns.
When you are afield, here and there you will come across an early settler’s cabin from the mid-1700’s. They were the predecessors to the big stone houses and they are interesting to explore. They are usually built over a spring, like this one, to keep food cool and so the settlers would have water when they were holed-up during Indian troubles. I enjoy trying to envision my ancestors who wrested the farms from the forests and Indians by hand labor; and I often wonder what sorts of men and women it took to do such things.
My wife and I buy our groceries at little country stores, like this one just down the road. The local women make wonderful cakes and pies and sell them there; and the produce was picked that day right out back. Ummmm!
Eventually, noon rolled around and we could hit the field for the first time since March. Doves aren’t “real” upland birds (you can’t point them), but yesterday was an important day for Maggie, Chase and me.
It is amazing how adaptable dogs can be. They knew that these were not birds they could find by crashing cover and pointing, so they took to scanning the skies. They would often see an incomer before I did.
The dogs and I covered a lot of miles jump shooting - worn boots!
In two weeks the dogs and I leave to camp in remote places on the northern plains for a few weeks in order to chase prairie grouse. Places like this – 25 miles from the nearest fence post. People ask me if I'm "lonely" when I'm out there - ha, ha, ha, ha!!
Then, back just in time for local grouse and woodcock, then, in another week or two - eastern phez, then late season western phez in the snow, then local late season grouse; and finally killing about a zillion pen-raised birds after the “wild” seasons close.
Life is good…..
Best wishes to you for a good season!!
