food

This week we've been practicing our wild food gathering skills on our evening walk. It's an August ritual. All along the road we've started seeing muscadines, or "fall grapes" as the locals call them, ripe and ready for eating.

I've been thinking about hunting all week. Thanksgiving morning we woke up to shooting on two sides. For a half-hour or so it sounded like a Baghdad fire fight. Upstream, to our west, ducks and geese were probably falling in a series of shotgun volleys, and to the east, downstream, somebody else had mounted a tree stand to shoot a few holiday rounds at some of South Carolina's estimated 800,000 deer in the dawn's early light.