Late yesterday afternoon I put aside what I'd been doing, grabbed a scattergun and whistled to Jake. A short walk northeast of the house is a large food plot that I'd had in oats back in the spring (when it still remembered how to rain) but had since gone to croton and ragweed over the summer. I'd shredded half of it back before dove season opened, but the other half is still standing and the northern birds are taking advantage of it on their road trip south.
I did a lot more observing than shooting; I just enjoyed the evening and getting to watch Jake at work.
There's a lot worse ways to spend an evening...