Bayou Meto Duck Hunt with Muzzleloading Shotgun

The two drake mallards, lying dead on a wind-thrown tree next to me, had been a long time coming. And now, because they had ended up there so easily on the morning hunt, they held powerful sway, the incongruity of the moment imbuing it with a sense of something transcendental. The ducks felt less like the result of my skill and effort and more like a gift.