The aroma of paper shells fired with a charge of IMR 7625 is tough to beat. Also partial to inhaling deeply with my nose buried in the feathers of a freshly killed quail. The addictive aroma of a cypress swamp in evening. The scent of an old cricket cage, and outboard motor oil mixed with the water in the bottom of a wood boat. The acrid air over bluegill bream beds on a still morning in May.

Aside from hunting and fishing.......... newly bottom plowed soil, and a freshly dug peanut field. Honeysuckle blooming alongside a dirt road near a blackberry patch. A field of coastal bermuda hay, freshly mowed, as a 12 year old boy runs barefoot through it catching grasshoppers for fishbait.

Gotta quit. Too real.

SRH

May God bless America and those who defend her.