For a girl who has avoided eating anything with eye's until I met my husband, hunting may seem a strange topic. I remember the first time Minnesota Dad let me shoot a can with Mike's gun (from when he was twelve). It was fun, even though I was terrible at it. Now, I go with the guys---mostly just to walk the cornfields and watch.
We headed towards Ivanhoe (not in Poland---but in Minnesota---although I believe it is a Polish settlement) late in the afternoon in search of some birds! With Merle (Haggard) on the radio, expert Dave finds an interesting spot with no other hunters in sight. When you look out at the field, it looks pretty simple to walk through. It is not. Dave is always in his best shape late fall, early winter, because he walks for miles through the thick prairie grass. This is grass that is as tall as me sometimes.
I try to keep up with long legged Taylor Men and dogs until they lose me and I head back to the warm truck to wait. The only sound was a busy farmer, plowing down a field, preparing it for winter and next year's harvest, and of course the prairie wind. It was warm by Minnesota standards...about 40 degrees. Soon I hear a shot, and in the distance I see two orange guys running after a black spot (Molly) and an even smaller white spot (Sydney). I can't even see the white spot without the binoculars'---I just know she's there!
The "hunter's" and hounds arrive back to the truck with smiles on their faces ---they got a bird! Then it is off to the next spot---until the sun goes down---before heading back home to a homemade vegetarian lasagna prepared with love by Minnesota Mom!
It sure felt good to be home in my second home!
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