The miracle of tumbling a hard flushing grouse after hours of pushing bush felt like the past twenty years had been lost in an instant. When I cracked that biddy with the first barrel and feathers drifted back to earth - time stood still.
And that, Bert, is the reason that I make the 4,000 mile or so round trip to go bird hunting with my high school buds in Wisconsin every year. Traveling money was a bit short this year but that's a trip I'll never miss. Good friends, good food, good whisky and this year quite a few birds.
