"Feels like -1," the online weather service stated for our northern New England region this morning, but we went out anyway. Since my bird dogs refuse to wear those pad-protecting booties glossy magazines sell us (well at least ONE time), we keep our time outdoors under an hour these single-digit days. Between uninterrupted casts along treelines and through brush, they slam to a stop to chew at the ice forming between their furry toes, but otherwise return over and over, checking back, as if enjoying it. Like me, now gunless and daydreaming of past and future seasons, they need to cover ground other than asphalt.
(Steve Hickoff photo)
