Moonstruck might not be the perfect word for how I felt standing on the porch of a ramshackle house built a century ago on a patch of high ground in a still-feral piece of Texas' Hill Country. But it's close. Such can be the unexpected bounty of experiences that present themselves to those of us who pursue wild turkeys during the spring hunting. And a lot of that has nothing to do with turkeys.
Dawn would not come for almost two more hours on this first Saturday in April, and most of Texas' 27 million or so residents were still well wrapped in the arms of Morpheus. Their dreams, no matter how vivid, could not match the sights and sounds and scents of the very real world around me.Read more