What it is – Unexpectedly busting a small covey with your oldest hunting buddy. Birds swerving left and right off of a high bench. Some cutting away to the distance, some holding tight to the contours. Standing 15 feet apart we dissect the covey knowing intrinsically which bird the other is going for. I pause for the one he’s about to drop, adjust and fire on another. He does the same for me. He shoots at the straggler flying directly away from us, misses, and I’m ready to drop it. And do. All with out words. All within the time it takes to open your paycheck. It’s a beautiful thing.
|I said no chest thumping. But this was beautiful.|