Oct. 24, ‘09-We took our lunch break in the backwaters. This time of year we are booked rather full on vet route and feel the approach of colder weather and client’s hoping to get cattle vaccinated. Between appointments @ the Shack to sell products or vaccinate dogs and the farm and vet route-we opted to duck hunt for our re-charge. Tom is in his camo armpit high waders and slings the “Moz” in the back of the truck. I giggle @ the driver’s side rearview mirror held in place with the handyman’s secret weapon. Tom mentioned it was my idea to duct tape it instead of taking it in to Dick’s Auto Repair. It’s like looking @ a TV screen all nicely squared in for our viewing pleasure. Sign us up for a TV show that’s a cross between the Red Green Show and the James Herriot of the U.S. I joke I find my life un-fold each AM in the cartoon section of the Winona Daily Newspaper. The truck door chatters as I notice Car Camp in our truck. We’ve coined the phrase “Car Camp” for novel characters that are easily recognized for being able to survive days in their vehicle if needed. I’m a first class Car Camp woman myself. Our truck has 1 lighter, matches, 2 broken pairs of sunglasses smushed in the dash. A headlamp for late night ventures in the pasture and a hot pink eartag with the number 597 emblazzened on it. I also find Ibuprofin, twisty ties and plaque remover picks in the glove compartment. I comment the plaque picks must be used when he isn’t close to the outlet for the electric toothbrush.. he pipes up triumphantly, “Did you know that you could find a stick and beat the end of it with a rock and use it as a tooth brush??” I burst out laughing and we proceed to the backwaters thankful for clean teeth and store bought picks. I am cautious with how far I think we can drive out in pasture. Tom agrees today, and it’s slimey on the grass from 3″ of rain over past days. We stop the truck and load the Moz, 2 camo floaty boat tushy cushions and 1 wooden oar, into our arms. It’s sweet sunshine, soft blue skies with white, whispy clouds for our wacky snack break. Tom un-ties the Mitchicraft Canoe and the water level has risen substantially over last days. This AM the Trempealeau River was flowing to the top of it’s banks in the backwaters. A beaver dam has helped the water table to stay high enough for us to canoe. Tom steadies the canoe for me as I clamber in and set side-saddle. There’s clear water and green lily pads float on the  surface. Tom is teaching me the birds and trees and is very smooth with identification of species. He noticed the crows flying and spoke of all the dead ash trees before us. We also have swamp white oaks and maple trees. He paddled us to the alder bush that he says has the big round, rough- edged leaves. I notice matted maple leaves floating in the backwaters bath. 6 rusty steel posts are remnants from an old duck blind. Tom shows me to my setting spot. I’m leaned against the silver maple tree with my fingers stuck in my ears and hunched down. He touches my shoulder and says there are no ducks yet. Oh yes, right Tom. Then he describes the reed’s canary grass and tri-stem is still green. The beaver lodge has more fresh sticks piled on top of it. Tom points to Rice Slough and the area that typically has the heaviest bounty of wild rice for the critters. Gentle winds wave the wandering lily pads. Tom notices a Robin fly behind us quietly. He points out 2 Cedar Wax Wings and that they like to harvest insects. I sing a silent song and a Flycatcher and White- breasted Nuthatch greet us. He had carefully covered the canoe with burlap camo tarp and asked me to stuff the plastic bag to protect the camera , deeper in my pocket.  Bliss to be kissed on the shore of the marsh. I casually mentioned that he could sing a song for ducks to come. Silence and I waited. No ducks and I needed to pee.  He commented that I look like a Greek Thinker when crouched in the grass. I stood up and sang the song. Tom walked towards the beaver dam- slosh, slosh and was ripping @ the sticks to lower the water level.  In that moment a teal dropped 20′ from me.  Psst..Psst..wham he was busy. “Psst Tom!” I tried to holler. It was my wild gesticulating that caught his attention. The emphatic pointing and my wide eyes got the point to him.  I breathed..”Shoot it..it’s yours!”  I hear him say , “I can’t honey, it’s too close to where you are and I’m back here!”  So it flew and I  pondered why he’d leave to alter the dam when I sang the song. We saw 10 ducks but they were far away.  The reality of vet route and an appointment @ the Shack jarred us back to work on this Saturday.  He gently rowed the canoe back to it’s setting spot and walked Sunrise Slough Point. No ducks were shot today, but the story-it’s all about the story.

Shoot it!

Sue Roskos