I have wonderful memories of a quail/pheasant hunt one November day. At the end of the day I set up my camera to take a photo of the four of us. I had the photo printed on coffee mugs for everyone. The four of us haven't hunted together since although we regularly did before that day. One moved out of state, one has mobility issues with his knees, and one lost his son to suicide and hasn't been quite the same since. The place we used to hunt was a wonderful bit of land that was owned by the old farmer who farmed my land. It was prairie pasture land with two spring-fed ponds, rolling hills, and stands of cedars along the creeks. The land has been sold off and is a trophy home farm now. Everything changes.