Swamp things
As we set foot into the stretch of private land the welcoming owner offered up to us on the abnormally warm November afternoon — nearly 60 degrees as we started our trek with two hours before sunset — it wasn’t long until I could hear the squish-squash of each of my lab Ole’s steps in the grass outside the cattails at the center of the initial slough. Making our way around the main cover, we came to a small, separate stand of reeds and birds began breaking out the far side. First a pair of hen pheasants downwind, then a rooster off to the side, then another and another all into ...