Friday Flying Feathers

Teal season usually opens in late September.  It's always a tough hunt.  Most times it's hot.  Nine times out of ten you donate about a pint of blood to mosquitoes in the blind.  But all the time, it is a memorable experience whether you bring back ducks for the first gumbo of the season or not.  Dad called me up and asked me to meet him at the shop at 5 AM sharp.  I'll never turn down an opportunity for a teal hunt on the farm.  So I set my alarm for 4:25 AM and boogied to Oberlin.

As the sun slowly made its way up peeking over the eastern horizon, it painted a glorious canvas.  Herons and grosbecks flew overhead announcing a new day.  We sat in the blind and talked in hushed tones as we anticipated the first flyover.  Teal don't play around.  They fly fast and furious.  When they see the decoys and cup their wings, it's time to shoot.

Shortly after sunrise we heard shooting coming from blinds far away.  We kept our eyes peeled and soon, teal became visible heading our way.  It was our turn to open up on them.

Dad in the foreground

Flooded rice fields are crawfish ponds make the perfect environment for ducks.  It's a short season this year, one that ended this weekend.  Normally, any ducks we shoot have to be found by walking out, but this time, we had an assistant who ran out and brought them back to us.  Raven did an excellent job!

We killed six and found five.  I hate it when you lose a bird, but sometimes a wounded one is able to crawl off on a levee and hide in the weeds.  Sometimes, they'll regain their wits and fly off, getting a second chance.  Blue winged teal are named for the distinctive markings on their wings.  Pretty birds, for sure.

I set the water in the pot to scalding so that I could get them plucked and cleaned.

In anticipation of the kill, I had harvested some okra the day before, cut it up, and cooked it down with onions to be used in the gumbo.  Teal are pretty small, so once you get them plucked they're easy to clean.  Doesn't take long at all.  I put 5 cleaned teal in a gallon ziploc.

As much as we'll enjoy that gumbo, the memories of teal hunting with Dad is where the real enjoyment lies.  What a great morning!