With Connecticut's pheasant season beginning this week, I'm reminded of many wonderful Saturdays as a boy, in the woods and fields of Bethel, New Milford and Huntington. It was as much a part of my childhood as school, sports and family gatherings...... Maybe more.
I would sit on the steps of our front porch, waiting for my dad, his friends and my uncles to return from a morning of bird hunting. I couldn't wait to see what they harvested and to hear the funny stories they used to tell about each other.
Then, when I was eleven years old, Santa brought me my first shotgun!! I was so excited to know that I was trusted with such an important gift, that came with so much responsibility. I was proud. I knew my parents were too or they wouldn't have let Santa bring it to me.
Tami and I did the exact same thing with our son when we knew he was ready. He was just as thrilled with that fat old elf as I was when it happened to me.
As much as I treasure deer hunting and being in my tree stand, there will always be something so special for me about the start of pheasant season.
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