The most special for me was when I crawled into a bottom with a small creek and a beaver pond to get close to a roosted bird. About daylight a wood duck flew out of a hole in a dead tree. Turkey was hammering on the roost, so I stayed put. 30 minutes later the wood duck hen flew back into her hole. She fluttered to the ground and next thing I knew little yellow balls of fluff were falling out of that hole like snowflakes. She gathered the little ones and they followed her towards the beaver pond. The turkey gobbled and strutted on the ridge but as usual the hens won the battle and took him the other way. Can't say that I was too disappointed. The Lord blesses us even when we don't burn any powder!