5:00a.m., 29 degrees outside and frozen boots on my feet means only one thing, it's duck and goose season. Well, we are gearing up for the season that arrives soon by attending a banquet tonight sponsored by Ducks Unlimited. Myself and several of my buddies are going to the shin-ding to swap stories and tell lies about past hunting seasons. But, I'm in a weird place this year and I'm not sure what's happening. I have all the gear and shotguns and decoys any amature hunter would ever need but that's not the problem. Here goes, I don't know if I want to hunt anymore. Let's forget the whole argument about "killing animals" and shit like that, I won't even entertain the argument. I eat what I hunt, period, end of conversation. My issue is not a moral dilemma but more of a change of interests. I took up with these guys years ago as a way to join in their "reindeer" games and fit in with the fellas in my new found surroundings, namely Southern Maryland. Now, after 20 years in the area, I finally am accepted and fit in, so to speak. I have friends who would never eat meat, much less hunt. They have not 'shunned' me but may not have known about my hunting activities. My daughter cringed several years ago when I told her I had just returned from goose hunting.
I'm 51 years old and I'm starting to mellow a little and think I might just sit on the sidelines this year and watch the geese fly overhead. Well hell, maybe not.
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