Tis the season for Christmas parties and for gathering around the tables adorned with succulent pork loin, rare roast beef, crab dips, and cheese balls covered with pecans. Of course, the toppings like pepper jelly glazes, homemade honey mustard, and special dill and horseradish sauces are vital for the production to be complete. Normally, there is a separate room or table for the fudge, divinity, and the bread pudding. Only the best bourbon glaze will do for the pudding and raisins are a must. This is where I can be found, for the plates are usually small and by keeping a presence around the table, a lot of back and forth trips for the goodies are saved. I will admit, in addition to the abundance of delicacies, this area is also where the best conversations are occurring. Each year I look forward to what I know is to come at these social gatherings.
In and around Jackson and Madison, our hunting roots run deep. It is rare when at least a significant number of guests at these wonderful parties are not diehard people of the outdoors. It is possible that this happens to be because of the circles I associate with, but I really think this is quite common at most of our holiday events in the south. As I have said before, our outdoor heritage is what defines many of us. Alas though, back to the conversation that I anxiously await each December.
Most of the time it starts with someone’s opening statement like, “y’all got any ducks?” Sometimes it begins with, “you been in the blind?” These short, to the point questions are like waving the green flag at Talladega. Another analogy, which I’m sure you’ve heard is, “let the wild rumpus begin.” Do you remember Max in, “Where the Wild Things Are?” I bet if we researched, Max was a pursuant of waterfowl. It never fails, discussions at these festivities always involve the mallard, the pintail, and the wood duck. More times than not, these gentlemen, and sometimes ladies, delve into the whereabouts of the largest concentration of migrating ducks. These inquiries of the locations of our web-footed friends venture much farther than from Vicksburg to Drew. Comments are made about disclosures and the most recent information regarding ducks from Tennessee, to Iowa, and even to our Canadian provinces. It’s all summed up by the catchall question, where are the ducks?
So, where are the ducks? Some of my buddies had marginal success the first couple of hunts. I even heard of a few mallard limits that have been taken. Of course these came from the local population buildup and after a few volleys of black clouds and tungsten, these birds made for secluded ponds and refuges elsewhere. Recently, I have heard of more teal and gadwall collections than of the prized greenheads. Don’t crucify me, for I too know of the worthiness of the green-winged teal and the wood duck for table fare. In fact, the aforementioned, are at the top of the list when removed from the Dutch oven. My mother always preferred these over the noble mallard, but there is just something about those stringers of green heads across your shoulders. Again, I ask, where are they?
I do know they’re not in Missouri, at least in significant numbers. My long time call maker from Hayti is still waiting on the “push” too. My delta buddies are wearing out the specks right now, but no ducks. I don’t have sources much farther than Illinois, but at least this far north, populations seem to be marginal at best. So what are the “experts” saying?
According to the most recent surveys, conducted by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and Canadian Wildlife service, the estimated spring breeding population was almost 39 million birds. This is down around 6 percent from the estimated 41.2 million birds in 2018. The “good news” is that these numbers are still about 10 percent higher than the long term average. Reasons abound in regard to the decrease in numbers of migrating waterfowl, but most biologists tend to agree that populations are affected more by drought during nesting than any other reason. I understand that the Atlantic flyway is in dire straits and the mallard limit has been reduced to two in many states and only one of these two can be a hen. It seems the farther west we go, the better the status of waterfowl. I did notice on my last two visits to Kansas and Oklahoma, there were a lot of ducks in the shallow rivers and streams. In fact, I have noticed a lot more ducks, especially mallards, in this country for the last four or five years. I can’t speculate as to why, but the rafts of big ducks are quite apparent throughout this region.
If we are fortunate enough to get several “pushes” of arctic air over the next month or so, we may be able to have a decent season. I hear stories of refuges keeping water open and supplemental feeding taking place to keep ducks up north, but I have a hard time believing that man can alter Mother Nature to the point of disrupting the “zugunruhe.” Stranger things have happened, I suppose. Maybe some of you are aware of circumstances affecting waterfowl movement south. If so, I hope you share your thoughts on why.
I started my hunting career at an early age chasing doves, squirrels, and deer. It wasn’t until I met, who are now some of my closest friends and colleagues in college, that I was introduced to the real world of duck hunting. I remember the clouds of mallards, blackening the skies at dusk on their way to roost. It sounded like jets taking off in the pre-dawn darkness as they rose to feed in the mornings. We would take limits by 8 A.M. and then ride and scout for the next hunt. We would kill em all season long. Something has changed though. Were there a hundred million ducks back then? Have populations changed that much? Are there just that many more hunters applying more pressure to the resource causing them to move to other areas? I have many questions, but few answers. I used to love nothing more than decoying ducks and folding them into my spread. I hunted a lot by myself and was pretty good at it too. I suppose it was the combination of fewer ducks and my increased interest in hunting big bucks in Canada and the mid-west that made me hang up my lanyards for a while. Maybe birthdays and cold water takes its toll on my bones to another degree. Regardless, I’m pretty sure I would pick up where I left off if the ducks returned.
If you need a partner sometime to call, I bet I could sing a few notes. Give me a call if you find some, even if they don’t work, we could at least wonder where they are and talk about it. I hope to hear from you soon. Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
