First off, in November, my friend Ralph brought his lovely to look at wife Char and came to spend Thanksgiving with us. The primal instinct runs deep in Ralph, to hunt and fish and provide for his family (and ours). We decided to see if we could go in search of, and to bag a turkey for dinner. With gun in hand he could be seen stealthily moving from machine to machine in one of my sheds. Then, almost as though by instinct alone, something caught his attention and he wheeled to his left and started to approach what seemed to be the best possible hiding place in the area for the wiley birds of which we were in search.
Fortunately the bird didn't flush as he drew down on the young tom. We were in luck. This one had a pop-up timer in it's breast. This comes from centuries of inbreeding I am told.
Nothing can ever take the place of that first picture of the hunter...and the hunted. Victory oh sweet victory.