By Hannah J. Ryan
The morning sunlight seeps across Wyoming’s sky and into a corn stubble field near the river. Friends and family are tucked to either side of me in layout blinds. My feet are reaching that freezing point that would soon drive me from my hiding place, but a dark cloud lifts off the river as a few hundred Canada geese leave their night’s resting place.
As their ruckus reaches us, our adrenaline-levels spike and my numb feet are eitherwarmed or forgotten. Our decoy spread forms an open-ended triangle and we are stationed in the V’s crook. Four geese break from the flock and head for the open ground we left in the spread directly before our blinds.
When the birds come in range, someone calls out, “Take ‘em!” and we pop up from our prone positions, shotguns singing...
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