Hunting

“Two Duck Suppers”

Excerpt from Knee Deep In Fish

“Our half-hour ride takes us down small country roads. By preference and design, we have plotted a course that leaves four-lane highways completely out of sight and out of mind. Our chosen course is a collection of stitched together, lane and a half, tar and gravel, farm to market roads. Thus, named such by the federal government during the depression to create work for, and provide assistance to farmers for moving their crops to rail heads and market outlets. This path to our farm takes us longer. No matter. The beauty of the drive on this crisp clear day is more than adequate compensation. 

Old trees, many different varieties, push in against the gentle curves and rolling hills. Now and then, the early afternoon winter sun shoots sharp shafts of bright warm light across our path. The autumn leaves are not quite yet done. Here and there, a wild cherry or white oak showers the road. The light breeze pushes double armfuls across our way like wee small children holding hands and scurrying across our path to the opposite side. As the truck whisks through the procession, dozens more of gold and caramel-colored leaves gleefully spring high, swirl, and dance in the rear-view mirror. Every mile traveled, the winter light paints a unique scene of colors, textures, and movement. 

I find it hard to describe the beauty and magic of these moments. Old fence lines of rusty hog wire are nailed to handsplit cedar posts silvered by age. Sections of barbed wire long ago grown into forty-year-old oaks, hickories, and sweetgums line unused pastures. Driving further on, we pass mustard yellow ragweed that has taken over the center of the dirt two track lane. Then we round a sharp curve with yellow flames of hickory or a splash of sumac so vibrantly scarlet that you might declare it unreal. The farm, our destination rises on our left. Will knows this place, remembering well barn-burner dove shoots and icy morning duck hunts. He bounces back and forth using his eighty pounds to sway the truck from side to side, telling me, “Hurry up, Boss. Let’s go!”

This passage appears in the chapter “Two Duck Suppers” in the book Knee Deep In Fish by John P. Faris, Jr. To read additional excerpts from John’s book collection, to include a complete chapter from his first book, click here.

“Two Duck Suppers”2024-06-12T16:25:44+00:00

“200 Duck Season”

Excerpt from The Tide Flows Out

“Of course, it was never just about the ducks. There was the comradery, the friendly competition, and the adventure of each outing. We all enjoyed hunting together so very much. It was being in the marsh, on the river, or in a flooded run of timber as the stars evaporated and the ducks rode the pink-rose dawn light.

For me it was the countless miles I walked along a creek bank with my friend Sammy and the learning of the wood’s ways from my dad and his older hunting buddies. It was just being with my dad in those final days when I was still a boy, but soon to marry and be a dad myself. I will always remember that 1966 season.

A special time. One to be cherished. One to be remembered.”

This passage appears in the chapter “200 Duck Season” in the book The Tide Flows Out by John P. Faris, Jr. To read additional excerpts from John’s book collection, to include a complete chapter from his first book, click here.

“200 Duck Season”2020-11-09T16:42:03+00:00

Ten Was The Deal – My first book of Southern Hunting and Fishing Stories

Today my publisher and I  finally signed off on the manuscript of my new book Ten Was The Deal.  My first printed copy should arrive from the printer on September 1st. I could not have published this book without the help of Kirk Neely who has shepherded me through the long and complicated process. I also owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to Clare Neely who is my editor and chief encourager.

This is the front cover of my first book.

Book Cover for Ten Was The Deal by John Faris, Jr

Ten Was The Deal – My first book of Southern Hunting and Fishing Stories2020-11-12T04:36:05+00:00
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