I am from Bucksport, not from away. I understand the culture of the hunt and all the skills and thrills it entails. I live on a small pond and over the years I have enjoyed it here immensely.
I read the article in BDN’s Nov. 15-16 edition, “Waterfowling’s weird, wonderful side.” I avoid reading man against nature stories as I know how they end. This article attracted me because I do appreciate the wonderful side of waterfowl. I have my binoculars trained on the duck families from the time they are fluff balls meticulously lined up behind the mother duck until they leave in the late fall.
Mr. Graves in his full-page preparation and buildup to his “unique hunt” shares the experience, smells and sounds. He and his companions climb into their fake hay bale and sit chatting, poised to spray lead into the quiet sky overhead.
Predictably, along come the gaggle of geese complete with some rare speckled bellies, a fact not lost on the veteran hunter. He had not seen or heard of the breed in his 40 sporting years in Maine. He kept his “elation in check” and skillfully ended the ill-fated migration of the “rare trio of speckles” and two Canada geese.
I read only half of the article; I’d had enough of the chest thumping. Could anyone within reading distance please explain to me what is so “enthralling” about the killing of these beautiful creatures?