"Days Fly By"
By MS Field Expert Chad Hall

It seems like only yesterday, I was floating my five year old son Gunnar into our favorite duck hole in an old camo canoe. Even though he was decked out in his size four camo chest waders, the two foot water was too much for him. For several years, Gunnar went along only bearing a toy side by side shotgun. The ducks would come in and he would always act if he was shooting with us. A few times he actually tried to claim ducks, giving all of us something to smile about. As time went by, Gunnar graduated from the "toy" side by side, to a single shot 20 gauge. He would clumsily wade in on his own, finding every snag and beaver run in the whole slough. I would usually have the decoys out before he arrived at the blind. Now at 11 years old, Gunnar is beginning to call a little, walk in faster and is shooting a 12 gauge. While doing work at our favorite duck hole, we saw a few nice droves of blue-wing teal and decided to give Mississippi's early teal season a try.

The morning started as all my duck hunting mornings do. The alarm clock sounded early and was silenced by a quick tap of the snooze button. After I laid there for the best 8 minute sleep of my life, thoughts of swarming teal drove me out of bed. I walked to Gunnar's room and gave him a few bumps and the famous "get up boy, let's go"... and he was up and ready to roll. I decided to send my hunting partners Greg Pruitt and Zack Wilbanks a quick text message to make sure they were still in for the morning hunt. After few short minutes a text message from Greg came back that read "its on", but no message from Zack (a 16yr old high school junior that began hunting with me a few years ago). Twenty short minutes later Gunnar and I pulled up at Greg's house. Still no reply from Zack so we assumed he had "Zacked Out" again, which is our terminology for just about anything that goes wrong during duck season (got to give the youngsters a hard time). One last failed attempt to reach Zack, and the three of us struck out for our duck hole that rests on the banks of Chuquatonchee Creek (pronounced Sic-a-t?n-chee). After wading in and throwing out a dozen decoys we perched in our blind and waited for daybreak.

As shooting time arrived, a few groups of teal decided to buzz our spread. I watched in awe, how attentive Gunnar was and how he had matured as a young hunter - keeping low, small movements and gun ready. When my hunting partner, Greg Pruitt, said those famous words, "next pass... lets take em", Gunnar's eyes lit up. They came in from the southwest and Gunnar came off of the bench with purpose. With his eye already on a bird, he took a quick lead and squeezed. He knew before the blue-wing hit the water. He looked over at me and smiled... It was as if we had a bet on who would get the first duck, and he just won... the torch was passed... my boy just got the first duck of the year!

I appreciate you staying with me as I shared some fatherly pride, but this memory will always be as vivid as the day he and I doubled on mallards for his first duck just a few short years ago... the pictures of Gunnar are proof that just as the ducks do, days fly by... "TAKE EM".