Thanksgiving Day has always been a pretty big hunting day around here. We're generally not working, and my brothers are often here at the farm with us. We have all afternoon to siesta, so an early morning is no great challenge even if the Thanksgiving Eve family get together strays into the wee hours. This year it was just Dad and I on one of our favorite beaver pond honey holes. Pre-dawn and dawn low light photos are tough to do right. They never seem to do justice to the moment I'm trying to capture. That time, before the birds start calling, is quiet, serene...for me very spiritual. I'd love to share the essence of this part of the hunting experience, but really cannot...these pics are the best I can do, I suppose.
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| Pre-dawn in the Beaver Swamp |
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| First Light |
Sometimes we sit together; other times a few yards apart. Until first light, the only way I know Dad's there is the glow of his cigarette in the dark. When light comes, he appears in the shadows. Then we wait, first for the birds, then for the sun as it rises in our faces.
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| Dad in the shadows |
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| Sunrise Over the Decoys |
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