Old, familiar, fallow farm pasture. Birds were a touch jumpy today. Moved half a dozen, most were runners. Cedar pinned Ruff' x2, affording a young lad the luxury of an education. I dinged one that glided into a spruce blowdown, burying itself. "Hunt dead", he worked the area determinately for several minutes, popped out of the snag and dropped Ruff near my feet.
Woodcock numbers were heavy today. Found them in a finger that meanders down a sidehill, sprinkled with young spruce, Poplar and Grey Birch, leading to a small, Alder studded creek bed with a couple old, scraggly Apple trees.
