Author: David Goodison Title: September Duck Hunt September 22nd appeared through the early morning darkness much like any other morning, the only difference being today was opening day for duck season. This is the day many people anticipate with great fervor, a feeling I know well. Of all the days in the year, this day is special, unlike any other day. In the heart of the true waterfowl hunter, this day stands out among all other days, it hold a high place in every water fowlers heart, a place to be relished. This particular opening day was uncommonly warm. A slight north wind was gently blowing across the soy bean fields, gently rustling the trees bordering the banks of the river we would hunt. Orion, setting in the east, blinked and flickered from a cloudless sky as bats and owls winged their way to roost. Punctuated by the splash of decoys landing in water, the natural silence was broken by my friends and me discussing the anticipated hunt. My friend and I had been watching this river for six weeks, and could reliably expect over four hundred ducks to visit this morning. The river was small and shallow, about twenty feet wide and just a couple of feet deep. The shooting would be fast as the mallard and wood duck entered the river area through the tall stands of deciduous trees and hawthorn stands. Shooting in small enclosed areas offers the shooter a major challenge as ducks appear out of nowhere in seconds, only to flare or quickly navigate their way to safety. Snap shooting is a must in situations like this, and failure to bring down birds is inevitable for the slow to react. After setting a small number of decoys, we settled into the cover on the bank of the river. There was no need to build a blind as the local cover was good. Two friends appeared through the fading darkness and joined the hunt. The last few minutes of darkness faded and with the onset of a brightening sky came the whistle of wings overhead. It was a flight of wood duck; too fast to react to as they surveyed the river from above and kept on going. It was the first flight of legal hunting season, a harbinger of what was to come. A sudden gentle splash alerted us that a duck had sneaked in through the brightening dawn and settled in among the decoys. We looked at each other and all knew that we would not shoot that brave forerunner. Instead we would take aim at the next flight and perhaps use our last shot to bring him down if he was too slow to escape. Then a flight of four wood duck, coming from the East, twisted and dodged dropping rapidly to our decoys. Shouldering my gun I brought one down as my hunting partner, Dave, folded two. "Three out of four ain’t bad," I said as Dave smiled and began to gather the fallen game. We were hunting with a newly trained retriever and had decided that we would not let him retrieve all of the game in order to steady him for the upcoming season.  The next flight of ducks was a small flock of mallard, four drakes and a hen. They were uncommonly suspicious of the river and circled high. As they began to circle to the North, I called them with some "come in" and "feeding" calls. They circled and dropped altitude, but were not yet in range. More calling ensued and they circled again, and again dropped lower. The third circle settled them in and some feed chatter calling put the icing on the cake as and they cupped their wings, dropped their feet and committed to land. "Take Em!" A volley of shots echoed across the river as four of the five birds, all drakes, were neatly folded and dropped from the sky. This time my retriever, Cal, would do what he was born to do. He had marked three of the birds, and after quickly returning with each of them, I lined him for his first blind retrieve in a real hunting situation. The blind retrieve was not far, but he lined it perfectly and quickly returned to deliver the bird to hand, after which he promptly returned to scanning the sky for more game.
A flock of about twelve mallard were spotted far to the South. I began to aggressively call them and with the wind at my back, they received lots of encouragement. They turned from their path and made their way north, toward us. It is a great feeling when birds respond to calling and change their original direction to come to the decoys. As the flock approached my heart was pounding with anticipation when a shot rang out from behind me. One of my hunting partners had just shot a lone drake wood duck. The resounding shot flared the flock of mallard, and they returned to their original flight path. An opportunity missed with the mallards, but the drake wood duck was in full mature plumage, a sight to behold. The rest of the hunt continued much the same as small to medium flocks descended upon our decoys. Before the day got too warm we had all shot our limit of ducks, fourteen mallard, two teal and eight wood duck for four hunters. The entire hunt was good, perhaps ending too quickly. After the hunt we headed for our local restaurant for a filling breakfast where we relived each moment of the hunt through waving hands, lively chatter and lots of laughter. Hunting ducks with a great retriever and good friends is a rewarding experience. Make sure that this fall you take the time to do the same. For those who desire to hunt waterfowl in the great lake region of Canada, and enjoy the hunt of a lifetime for Canada Geese and various species of duck over water and fields, please contact the author Dave Goodison at dave@canadianwingshooter.com for guided hunt packages. | 
