Ducks and geese drifted in and out of my dreams. It’s always hard to sleep the night before a hunt. When the alarm rang, I rolled out of bed and found my camo and my boots. An hour later, we tromped through icy marsh. A biting wind howled out of the west, driving a sullen sky.
Sage, Bill Herrick’s Labrador, padded on top of the crust, while we broke through at every other step. We had to break through ice and wade to our waists to climb into the blind. With a head-high wall at the back and a low shelf in front, it was just what we needed to stay out of the storm, hidden from the birds.