Spring turkey hunters have long held themselves in high regard. They are considered (by themselves) to be cerebral, spiritual even, when it comes to their craft. They are the higher order of huntsmen, the gentle woodsmen. 

Speaking of birthdays, numbers have a way of creeping up on us. Friday, April 3, was my father’s birthday; born in 1925, he would have been 101. Born and raised in North Carolina, he met my mother at Duke University. He graduated with a degree in civil engineering in just three years after enlisting in the Navy’s accelerated commissioned officers program during WWII. He served as a captain of a converted PT boat assigned to rescue downed pilots in the Pacific Theater.