The morning began as others had over the past several weeks: Ducks swarmed overhead in the darkness and landed in the decoys as Dad and I got things ready for the hunt. However, when shooting time came, the ducks swung wide. They looked at the decoys, but wouldn’t commit.
We changed things up by removing decoys with wind-driven wings and opening more landing zones. Still, no ducks decoyed.
We could have pass-shot, but that’s not what hunting over decoys is about.
“I’m going to move out to that bush,” Dad said. “Why don’t you head to the east end and see what’s happening?”
The bush dad pointed to was 80 yards from our blind toward the far end of a flooded field. There was only enough room for one hunter. My 81-year-old father rearranged the decoys, hunkered behind the bush and began shooting before
