Looking For Love In All the Wrong Places

Subtitle: Things aren't always what they seem

As far as birds on our homestead farm, once a year we raise Cornish Cross meat birds.  We always have laying hens of several different breeds.  At one time we had quail, we raised a couple of turkeys for Thanksgiving dinner, and one time, we even had a pea hen that adopted us and moved into our pasture.  We've never had ducks, even though I love to eat ducks and I hear their eggs are rich in protein and make great ice cream, among other things.  I've never wanted ducks because I hear they make a mess and make mud holes on the property.

We do have wild wood ducks that fly across the land, landing in the trees and raising their young.  We also have pairs of Black-bellied Whistling Ducks (Mexican squealers) that fly in daily and land in trees.  So it wasn't too surprising when a large duck flew low across the pasture.  Tricia saw it first and pointed it out.  "That's bigger than a Mexican squealer," I said. "I think that was a Muscovy duck."

The very next morning I walked out to the barn to let the chickens out, feed the cows, and prepare the feed for the goats we would be milking shortly.  Suddenly there was a rush of feathers, and I heard something on top of the barn.  Well, well.  It was a Muscovy duck.  The duck didn't seem frightened of me at all.

The fiddler on the roof

"Who are you and what are you doing here," I thought.  The duck was looking at a big plastic owl we keep on the roof.  The owl is fake.  He is there to ward off predators like hawks that like to steal our chickens.  The owl sits overlooking the hen house.  But the Muscovy duck appears to be over looking at the owl

The duck seemingly wanted to befriend the owl, but the owl kept his back to the duck, ignoring any amorous advances.  How rude!  The duck appeared rebuffed, rejected, and began walking away.

As I watched this failed courtship spiral downward, the poor, dejected duck turned to me and scolded my intrusion into the whole affair, embarrassed that I had witnessed the whole thing.  "Mind your own business," said the duck.  And then he flew off.

As I thought about it, the scene that played out before me was a mini parable on the barn roof.  The duck is us.  The fake owl is all the alluring things of the world.  They look nice from the outside.  We covet stuff, things, trinkets, experiences.  But if one looks closely at the things of this world, we see that it's all fake and plastic.  It has no ability to love you back or bring you any lasting enjoyment or satisfaction.  Try as you may to befriend the things of this world, we find that it is meaningless, vapid, and hollow to expect any real contentment.  Perhaps we should take the old Muscovy Duck's advice and just mind our own business!

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.  Matthew 6:19-21 KJV

The Teal Hunt - Sep 2024

Mid September marks the start of teal season each year.  Duck season evokes the notion of cold weather, and although a teal is a small duck that migrates south, the cold weather never quite migrates south with the birds.  Teal season normally coincides with an influx of the thickest swarms of mosquitos mankind has witnessed.  But teal hunting is fun, and there's nothing quite like fresh harvested teal and sausage gumbo in the pot.  I purchased my Basic Hunting license, Resident waterfowl, and Federal Duck Stamp and set my alarm for early the next morning. 

My buddy Gary asked me to meet him on Saturday morning, and I was there at the appointed time.  We rode his four wheeler out to the blind where we sat down on 5 gallon buckets turned upside down and waited.  It was a beautiful morning, with a full moon overhead.  Decoys were set out just in front of us to lure the birds in to their final resting place.  We talked in muffled whispers about stuff that old friends discuss - our kids, work, projects that we are working on at home.  

We heard a volley of shots go off from several locations to our west, south and east.  We saw a group of ducks fly overhead.  They were high and their motors were running.  They were in a hurry to get somewhere and it wasn't our pond.  Two cat squirrels played in the fork of a sweet gum tree behind us, dropping acorns that they had robbed from another tree.  They were making a lot of racket, distracting us from the job before us.

Soon we heard the flutter of wings and a whistle.  Ducks coming in!  They cupped their wings and landed in the pond.  Unfortunately, they were wood ducks.  Wood ducks aren't in season yet.  Wood duck drakes are, in my opinion, the most beautiful bird on the planet.  They eat acorns and aside from looking nice, they taste splendid roasted in a cast iron dutch oven with a dark brown gravy.  These birds knew they were safe in our pond since they were out of season.  I watched one wink at me and laugh.  Try that in "big duck" season, partner, I told him.

Many, many more wood ducks flew past us, maybe 35 or 40 in total.  Some got really close.  I could see their colorful plumage reflected against the rising sun.  But we couldn't shoot them.  The teal were non-existent.  The few that we saw were out of range.

Even if we could have shot some teal, I wouldn't have been able to.  When my alarm went off the morning of the hunt, I found the following sticky note: "Remember, No shooting a Gun."  Tricia made me promise her that due to my heart surgery, I would not shoot a shotgun.  Darn it!

So the only shots I took were with the camera on my phone that I shared with you tonight.  I felt like a VEGAN hunter!  Hopefully soon I will be freed up to shoot my shotgun when big duck season opens.  There are some cocky wood ducks I know that have a reservation with my cast iron dutch oven.

Three Kinds of Eggs For Breakfast

Our chickens continue to lay lots of beautiful eggs.  Always at this time of the year, we have an abundance of them.  We sell some, give away a bunch and eat a bunch.  If the eggs are clean and we didn't have to wash them, they'll hold without refrigeration for quite a while.  We keep them in a bowl on the side of the stove top.  I sat the bowl on the windowsill for a photo op.  For some reason, country eggs in a bowl is a nice picture.  I think it communicates simplicity.

Many people where we live have chickens in order to have a stockpile of fresh eggs.  But some of our friends and neighbors have other types of poultry they keep for eggs and meat as well.  Right down the road about three quarters of a mile away are some friends that have quail.  They gave us a couple of dozen of quail eggs the other day at church.  They come in a clear plastic container and the quail eggs are speckled and pretty.

Russ promptly popped one in the skillet for a miniature fried egg, over easy.  It was like an appetizer for breakfast.  You'd need to eat 4 or 5 to equal one chicken egg, I would think.

Our next door neighbors have recently gotten a number of ducks.  They brought us two eighteen count of duck eggs.  While we have a bunch of animals, we don't have ducks.  Duck eggs have higher protein than a chicken egg.  Higher good fat content and higher good cholesterol, too. While our chickens' eggs have a dark yolk, I found that duck eggs have an even darker colored yolk.  Overall, duck eggs are better for you than chicken eggs.

Duck Eggs

Here is a comparison of the three types of eggs.  In my left hand below is the duck egg (left), chicken egg (middle), and quail egg (right).

This weekend, due to the generosity of our neighbors and friends, Tricia made us triple scrambled eggs for breakfast, made with duck, chicken and quail eggs, with a little onion and tomato cooked with them.  What shall we call this creation?  Quaducken? 

Eggstra-special breakfast

Whatever it is called, they were delicious!  It's good to have good neighbors that share their bounty with you.

Memories of My First Duck

In 1976 I was 10 years old.  We moved from a house we lived in right smack dab in the middle of town across the street from the elementary school to a house in the country.  It was on five acres of wooded pine land.  We had lots of room to roam, build forts, make trails, explore and hide in the woods.  The five acre plot was bordered by barbed wire fence.  The surrounding property was owned by a timber company and there were no posted signs.  So in actuality we weren't limited to five acres.  It was like "Christopher Robin and the Hundred Acre Wood." Lots of elbow room and a great place to grow up.

Like Lewis and Clark, my brother and I ventured into the unknown with our imagination fueling great adventures.  Tall Longleaf pines towered over us blotting out the sun.  We discovered sassafras trees and made tea.  We found swampy areas that had mayhaw trees.  We had a Honda Z-50 mini bike and must have put 100,000 mile on that thing on trails we made in the woods.  Mom and Dad erected a cast iron bell like the Liberty Bell and they would ring it to call us back home when it was time to eat supper.  Many times we were too far out in the "Amazon" to hear.

We were too young at that time to be trusted with a 'real' shotgun, but Dad had a .410 shotgun that was perfect for knocking fox squirrels out of trees.  One day I was by myself and had traveled maybe a mile or more eastward into the backcountry.  I crossed numerous fences and was wondering if I'd be able to find my way back.  The timber company that owned the land used plows on the back of bulldozers to make fire lanes intended to slow a forest fire and protect their investment.  At worst, I figured I could follow the fire lane back to civilization.

That's when I approached what appeared to be an old abandoned rice irrigation canal that hadn't been actively used in years.  It's banks were overgrown with trees.  I didn't even know if it still held water.  It could be great habitat for ducks, I thought, even though I'd never seen any in my previous reconnaissance missions into the woods.  I dropped to my hands and knees and crept up as quiet as the congregation during the preacher's closing prayer.  The late afternoon sun warmed my back, and I remembered thinking that days don't get better than this.  It was a special time.

As I peeked over the levee, I almost wet my pants.  Six or so beautiful wood ducks dabbled in the water.  My heart beat in my chest uncontrollably.  I silently clicked the button that moved the .410 from safety to fire as I raised the shotgun.  Truthfully, I was too nervous to even aim.  In a mad fluttering of wings, the ducks heard me.  I shot in the general direction of the torrent of wings and watched as all of the ducks maneuvered in and around the tree limbs, whistling as they flew skillfully out of sight.  All but one.

One wood duck drake lay in the shallow water.  In my opinion, it is one of the most beautiful ducks on God's green earth.

The next 10 minutes were a blur.  I remembering picking up the bird, admiring it and then running as fast as I could get back home to show off my first duck.  I darted around brier bushes, around pine trees, and hurdled barbed wire fences (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little) to get back home.  I was so proud of my first duck.  After showing everyone the duck, I wrapped him in newspaper with his head folded under his wing so it wouldn't break off when frozen, and then brought him to a taxidermist in Ville Platte, Louisiana to be mounted.  He is still flying (in my mind, at least) on the wall in my office.  He's been flying for probably 40 years now.

Great memories of childhood and my first duck that I'll cherish forever.  Fly on, wood duck, fly on!

The Blue-Winged Teal's Final Flight To Louisiana

This past weekend was the closing weekend for teal season.  Teal are ducks that migrate south for the winter.  They enjoy dabbling in rice fields for seeds leftover from the harvest.  They are generally the first ducks south and the last ducks to leave in spring.  Teal season opens on September 15th and runs through September 30th.  There is a 6 bird daily bag limit.  We have to wait for "big duck" season until later.  The trouble with teal season is that it is still hot.  Mosquitoes are in abundance.  In fact, last weekend we didn't kill any ducks, but we got more than our legal limit of mosquitoes!

Here is a look at our pond with the decoys in the foreground.  We sit on the levee camouflaged by tall weeds 

We arrived at the pond at 6 am, before the sun rises.  We walked quietly out to the blind with our guns and a 5 gallon bucket to turn upside down and sit on.  We load our guns and while slapping mosquitoes, we quietly talk and wait patiently for the ducks to come swarming in.  You can hear them before you see them, their wings rapidly beating through the thick, humid air.  They fly fast and furious, ducking down, rising up, circling before they cup their wings and commit to landing among the decoys.  That's when we let 'em have it.

The flights usually slow down or stop around 7:45.  We trudged out and picked up the birds.  We ended up shooting eight, but one was wounded and crawled away, hiding himself in the tall grass.  I hate to lose a bird!  They were all Blue-winged teal.

Here is a photo of my hunting buddy, Gary.  Gary and I grew up together and have hunted together for as long as I can remember.  Gary has keen eyesight and can spot the birds flying in wayyyyyy before I can.  He told me to go ahead and take all 7 of the ducks home to clean.  I'm not gonna argue with that, but I agreed to give him all the ducks we killed the next morning.

Here I am with a handful of teal.  They aren't heavy.  Teal are small ducks.  The male weighs a pound and the female slightly less.

Now's time to pluck, gut and clean them, but first, something shiny caught my eye.  One of the birds has a band on his leg.  See it?

So what you do with a band is you get on the Internet and go to www.reportband.gov.  When you get to that sight they ask you many questions about your encounter with the bird.  They ask you to drag a 'push-pin' to the exact spot on a map where you killed the bird and the date of the encounter.  Finally, after submitting answers to many questions, they send you a certificate to let you know interesting information about the bird you harvested.

One of the things they said was, "Bird banding is important for studying the movement, survival and behavior of birds. About 60 million birds representing hundreds of species have been banded in North America since 1904. About 4 million bands have been recovered and reported."

Check out the certificate they sent me:

How cool is that!  So my teal hatched in 2015 and was banded on August 16, 2016 near Fairmount, Saskatchewan, Canada!!!  That little bird did some powerful migrating, right?  Since he was banded in 2016, this is likely his second trip down.  I did a search to see how far it is from Fairmount, Saskatchewan, Canada to Oberlin, Louisiana.  It is 2,033.7 miles.  How's that for some frequent flier miles?

I plucked and gutted all the birds and packed into a gallon-sized ziploc bag.  The cleaned birds weighed only 3.75 pounds.  It is exceedingly less expensive to just go the the store and buy some meat, but then you miss out on all the fun.
 

Tricia put them into the deep freeze and promised that she'd be making a gumbo with them soon.  The first cool front should be approaching in the next couple of weeks.  I cannot wait.  It was 95 degrees today.  When it gets cold, we call that "gumbo weather!"

It was a lot of fun going out and hunting with my buddy, Gary.  It was also very interesting to kill a banded duck and learn about the long trip that he flew.  Unfortunately for him, he won't be making the second leg of his journey back to Canada in the spring.

Cold Morning in the Duck Blind

In This Post we chronicled how we built our duck blind this year and envisioned ducks falling from the sky and eventually ending up in our freezer for making duck gumbo.  The season, to this point, was a bust.  We had heard from other hunters that there just weren't many ducks this year and some weekends we had other things going and weren't able to get out to the blind.

With the season down to the final weekend, Benjamin said, "Let's give it one last shot, Dad."  And so we did.  We woke up at 5:20, put on camouflage, and loaded up our guns and hit the road.  It was dark and we had a 30 minute drive ahead of us to make it to Oberlin.  We were racing the sun as we had to be in the blind before sunrise so as not to scare off the ducks that may be already in the pond.
We stopped off first by the shop and grabbed a couple of five gallon buckets to sit on.

We parked the car and walked to the blind.  It was cold and the frozen, frosty ground crunched as we walked.  We made it before sunrise and took a seat scanning the horizon, looking for ducks and watching God paint a masterpiece on the canvas that was the Eastern sky.

The Hunter

Our blind was a good blind and we were hidden from sight.  We were able to peer out at the pond and see the decoys.  Benjamin took his glove off his trigger finger hand and waited.

Decoys on the pond

As we scanned the skies, we saw a nice sunrise and as we shifted on our buckets trying to stay warm, we looked overhead and saw a large group of ducks flying overhead, but they were high - too high, and flying with purpose somewhere, just not to our blind.

The Creator's Canvas

We waited and waited and waited and soon the sun had fully risen over the horizon with not a duck in sight.  Benjamin noticed 3 empty shotgun shells on the ground in our blind and said, "Someone must have shot some ducks in our blind, Dad."  But I told him that I had talked to my buddy, Gary, and he had come out to the blind on a previous weekend and like us, didn't see many ducks.  He told me that finally, he looked over and saw a coyote walking on the road.  He emptied his 12 gauge, but the coyote was too far away.

Finally, we decided to head back home.  As we walked back in the daylight, we were able to see that it was indeed cold.  There was a thin layer of ice on the pond.

Ice on the Duck Pond

There was also frost on the weeds on the ground on our way back to the car.

We drove back home, duckless and a little disappointed, but we had a good time just getting out and being in the great outdoors and having some 'guy time.'  We'll look forward to next duck hunting season.  There's always next year.  At least we have some squirrels and doves that Benjamin has tucked away in the freezer.  Next year we'll get the ducks...

If you build it, will they come?

The ducks, that is.  We're running late, but we wanted to get the duck pond and blind ready for the remainder of the duck season.  Once the second-crop rice harvest was out of the field, my buddy Gary stopped up the bottom cut and captured the rainwater from a recent rain.  The boys and I met him to work on flattening out the rice stubble to make a hole or clear area so that the ducks will see the water and land.  We initially tried with a four wheeler.  The four wheeler was pulling a plow normally used to make a food plot for deer.

Slinging mud in the duck pond

Unfortunately, the four wheeler almost got stuck several times in the big ruts caused by the combine tires.  The plow wasn't really turning over the ground and burying the rice straw either.  We decided to try again another day.

Not quite getting the job done.  We'll try again.

So we showed up and started building the duck blind by driving four t-posts into the ground and then encircled the area with hog wire.

The beginning of the duck blind

Russ and Benjamin and I began walking out on the levees and cutting down bitter weed and cane grass.  We carried that back to the blind and began weaving the weeds into the holes in the hog wire. It was slow work, but it was a beautiful day and it was nice to be out in the 70 degree weather.

Weaving the grass in the blind

Dad came with the tractor to try plan b.  We drug a cattle panel behind the tractor with some tires on top to provide weight.  He drove around in big circles to knock the rice stubble down and create a stinky muddy hole that ducks love.

Knocking down the rice stubble in the duck pond

The duck blind was really coming together, we all weaved grass into every hole in the fence that surrounded the blind.  Pretty soon, we had a really nice blind that will keep us hidden from the waterfowl that hopefully will land in our pond.

Adding a few final touches

As you can see, the tractor pulling the panel did a good job knocking down the rice straw, making a circular, watery spot in which we'll put out decoys.

Muddying up the duck pond

Finally, we were finished.  In all it took about an hour and a half.  All we need to do is put out the decoys now.

Russ & Benjamin (and a job well done)

Although we missed teal season and a part of the first split of 'big duck' season, we're going to do our best to put some ducks in the freezer for what remains.  We're in the west zone and have from November 15th - December 14th and then the second split from December 20th - January 18th. Hopefully, this stealthy blind that my boys built will assist us in having a good time and enjoying some mighty fine eating.

Look who wandered up in the yard today...

Tricia and I were moving the cows into the yard this afternoon and Benjamin was riding his scooter down the driveway, when something caught Tricia's eye running across the side yard.  It was this little fellow:

Baby Wood Duck

This is a baby wood duck.  There are lots of wood ducks around our neck of the woods and I assume that he (or she) must have fallen out of the nest.  Wood ducks normally lay their eggs in hollowed out tree limbs or anywhere that there is a hole in a tree. The little duckling was super healthy, running around like nobody's business.

Benjamin came running and picked him up.  Now he must have just fallen because we have two cats that are hunters and the neighbors, well, I can't even count how many cats they have.  I think they collect cats like one might collect stamps or coins. This little duckling wasn't going to make it and would end up being on the menu for the neighbor cat's supper for sure.  I walked around to see if I could find the nest, but had no luck. Benjamin, in the mean time, befriended him and named him Willie, after the CEO of Duck Commander.

Willie

Benjamin began searching the Internet to see how you care for a wild duck.  He went to the garden and dug up some small worms and began making a small cage into Willie's temporary home.  Funny thing is, we were just talking about ducks yesterday as Tricia was just talking to me about getting a few Muscovy Ducks for the pasture.

Here is Willie right where we found him, cruising around in the St. Augustine grass. It seems like he has huge feet - way too big for his little body and he follows Benjamin around the yard.  Benjamin brought him into the house and Willie was following him from room to room.  Tricia told him the it reminded her of the Dr. Seuss book, "Are you my mother?"  I thought that was funny!

Ol Willie where we found him

This was one excited dude right here to have this new friend waddle into his life.

I love my duck!

He put Willie into the rain bucket and he took to it, well, like a duck takes to water!

Swimming in the rain bucket

Benjamin got a nice little comfortable house for Willie set up and Willie promptly hopped up on top of the waterer.  He's an energetic little guy.

Willie, the duck, chilling out

I hope Willie will remain healthy and happy and we'll do our best to take care of him until he's able to re-enter the wild.

The Last Day of Teal Season

Teal season opened in our area on September 14th and ended on September 29th.  A teal is a small, freshwater duck that in my opinion, is one of the best eating ducks there is.  The season only lasts for 16 days and the limit is 6 teal per person per day.  Unfortunately, due to lack of rain, our duck pond that me and my buddy normally hunt in was bone dry.  We had to wait until we got rain (free water!) before we could make the hunt.  Fortunately, the rain came and on the very last day of the season, we were able to get out there in the duck blind to hunt for some teal.

Benjamin and I awoke at 5:45 am and put on our camouflage clothes, grabbed two 12 gauge shotguns and made the 30 minute trip to Oberlin where our family farm and duck pond is located.  We were to meet my buddy, Gary and his daughter, Danielle, for the hunt at 6:30 am.  Gary and I grew up together and have been friends for a long time.  We arrived and walked along the gully in the dark and positioned ourselves in the duck blind.  The blind is nothing fancy.  It is merely some tall grass directly in front of the bottom cut of a flooded rice field.  We brought 5 gallon buckets that we turned over and sat on.

One of my favorite parts of the hunt is the sunrise.  We get to sit on our buckets and watch as God gets out his paint brush and chooses amazing colors from His palette to paint a dazzling portrait across the immense canvas of the Eastern sky.

Sunrise Painted by God

We settled down and watched the sky for teal to begin flying.  You can't shoot before daylight so you have to know exactly when sunrise is.  On September 29th, it occurred at 7:00 am.  Right around that time, birds started flying.  Now, here's the tricky part.  You have to really be on your toes, because the only season that is open is teal season.  If you shoot any other kind of duck and Mr. Green Jeans (Department of Wildlife & Fisheries) will write you a ticket.  So you have to know by sight and by flight which duck is which.

Two flew by...  Two wood ducks, that is.  Can't shoot those...  yet.  Gotta wait for big duck season for those.

A pair of wood ducks

Then we spotted a flock flying in and Gary began calling them on his duck call.  As they got closer, yep, more wood ducks.  They lit in the pond, seemingly knowing they were off-limits.  I could have reached over and tapped on their shoulder they were so close.  Let's see them try that stunt when 'big duck' season opens!

A bigger flock of wood ducks coming to light in the pond

Then teal started whizzing by.  They fly so fast you hear the whir of their wings before you see them.  And when you finally see them, often times it is too late to get a shot it.  One bunch circled back and when they did, both Gary and I shot and dropped two birds (in an uncharacteristic demonstration of efficient shooting)!  I made a mental note of where I saw the teal hit the ground.  We waited until after 8 am, but the teal flights were few and far between and we didn't get another good opportunity to shoot, so we unloaded our guns and went to search for our ducks.

We found one almost immediately - a blue-winged hen.  We searched and searched for the other, but never could find it.  I hate to lose a bird!  Judging where I saw it fall, it went into the gully.  As we looked down in the gully there was a beaver dam right below us.  Can you see it in the picture below?  It has the water backed up about a foot higher than the lower level.  Those are some industrious little boogers weaving sticks and mud together to completely dam up the gully. 

Beaver dam

Once we walked back to the truck, I had Danielle, Gary, and Benjamin pose for the "look what we killed" picture.  If we were only eating what we killed on this morning, the four of us would be very hungry.  If you look behind the hunters, you can see Gary's 1980-something truck that he named, "The Black Knight."  The Black Knight is still running after many years and many miles and still doesn't burn a drop of oil, a testimony of what taking care of something will do.

Danielle, Gary & Benjamin

We drove back to Jennings and Benjamin posed with his duck.

Benjamin and his blue-winged teal

This photograph shows why it is called a blue-winged teal:

"Blue-winged"

These birds are small and I generally just 'breast' them.  I pull back the feathers right above the breast and make a small slit.  Then I step on the neck and tail, put my fingers into either side of the breast and pull.  The entire breast will pull out clean, leaving the guts, most of the feathers, head, and feet behind.

I pull the remaining feathers off the breast and put the teal in the freezer.  She'll make a wonderful addition to a gumbo when the weather gets a little colder.

For the compost pile

Finally, Benjamin & I pose for a Father/Son hunting photograph.  I'm using a Browning 12 gauge pump and Benjamin is holding a Remington Model 1100 12 gauge automatic shotgun.

Father & Son

And another:

Father & Son with their 12 gauge shotgun

We didn't get our limit of ducks on this hunt.  We did kill more than our limit of mosquitoes, though.  Man, they were bad!!  Big duck season opens in November.  Hopefully we'll add to our duck inventory in the freezer.  One lonely teal makes for a mighty skinny gumbo!