The anticipation for October begins weeks and months prior to October 1st. Spurred by a slight chill in the air and the smell of gun oil in the study, visions of game-birds cloud my mind. My attention shifts from sunny summer days on the beach, to long walks through golden grass.

The feeling is familiar, the urge to prepare is underway. Tin-Cloth is inspected, while shotgun is handled and shouldered. Ammo is hoarded and opening day plans are shared with trusted friends. Locations are scouted and birds are located, while fingers crossed that they stay put.

My eyes grow heavy. Sleep is near. I am transported to a time and a place I know too well.

October dreams bring me here, some trail that only exists in my mind. The birds are plentiful but my misses are greater, and I often forget to load my gun. But not tonight, my gun is loaded and my aim will be true.

The Ithaca 37 in my hand feels too real. A burst of wings and feathers nearly jars me from slumber. The report from my barrel is rewarded with a satisfying puff, and the quail comes crashing back down to earth.

I hover above my body, I don’t want to wake up. Just one more covey before I return to reality. This upland dreamscape is mine alone, no other hunter is here to interfere.

October dreams usher me on, I walk to retrieve my quarry. In my hand, the bird feels warm and a heaviness overcomes me. You see, this quail gave its life, each bird is a trophy and is worthy of my respect and honor.

Somehow, I know, that my time here is fleeting. This precious moment will pass, no matter how hard I will it otherwise. I’m in between my consciousness, neither here, nor there, but longing for another chance of bliss and one last covey rise.

I fight back, and I dig my heels in. I force my eyes to stay closed, despite a rousing in my soul. Please, don’t wake, one last time, when I’m away I feel that lovesickness ache in my heart.

October dreams grant me my wish. One more push through the upland hills and one more chance to meet my Maker’s creation, it was Him who put this passion in me after all. One last flush, this one bigger than before, wings and sunlight blaze in my eyes with fiery intent, but I choose not to shoot.

October dreams are frequent, but never enough. I lie awake, ready and willing. Only now I know I must wait until October dreams slowly transform into tangible reality.

God Bless & Happy Hunting,

– J.R.

This blog expresses the opinion of the author. All information provided on this site is for informational purposes only. UplandJitsu.com makes no representations as to the accuracy, completeness, currentness, suitability, or validity of any information on this site and will not be liable for any errors, omissions, or delays in this information or any losses, injuries, or damages arising from its display or use. All information is provided on an as-is basis.