The winds of autumn are carrying migratory doves that will fill fields for the next three months.
Toward the end of our most recent summer, sleepy-eyed residents lying in bed watching the 10 o’clock news perked up their ears at the mention of four words seldom uttered in the Bayou State: “late August cold front.” Meteorologists from Shreveport to New Orleans assured their viewers that an upper low spinning over the Plains and dipping into the lower Midwest would throw cool Canadian air into Louisiana, a state that doesn’t enjoy enough cool air in January, much less August.
Daytime highs would be knocked back 20 degrees, and nighttime lows would cool a home better than any air-conditioning system. Windows would fly open across the state, allowing in the dry, crisp air that smells better than heaven possibly could. After a summer of blistering heat, the season’s first cool front would be more welcomed than Santa Claus’ arrival.
Residents were downright giddy at the thought.
But not Mark Atwell. He wanted to cry. If he’d thought it would have done any good, he’d have gone out on his back porch and blown toward the north — anything to keep the cold air where it belonged this time of year.
Just eight weeks earlier, Atwell had labored for days under a sun that showed him no mercy. Back then, there was no promise of any cool fronts — nothing but pure, intense, white heat reigned from the Gulf of Mexico to the northern border. Satan himself was probably carrying around a hand-held misting fan.
But for Atwell, the hard work in the intolerable conditions would be worth it in early September when he looked out across his Holmwood field to see waves of doves flying past a row of squatting hunters, and hearing the reports of the shotguns move along the line with the flight.
The smell of gunpowder carried by the wind above a sea of bright-yellow sunflower faces is sweeter to Atwell than anything brought in by an early season cool front.
And unfortunately, the latter definitely has an inverse relationship with the former.
“As the (dove) season progresses, fronts are good, but in the early season, a front is the worst thing you could have,” Atwell said.
And this late-August front — arriving just as the meteorologists had promised and despite any blows from Atwell’s back porch — was no exception. One of Atwell’s five fields — the very one, in fact, he had primped for opening day — was covered up with doves just before the passage of the front.
“You couldn’t come out here without seeing several hundred, maybe thousands,” Atwell said.
But the north winds behind the front were like a supercharged fuel boost for the doves, giving them the help they needed to skedaddle out of Louisiana, with their minds set on a lovely winter vacation in sunny Mexico.
Each day, Atwell counted fewer and fewer birds in his field, and the season-opener was looming. For a guide who makes his living offering feather-filled skies to his clients, this wasn’t good news at all. He pulled out his planner, and started making calls, telling his customers not to bother coming. Most were disappointed but appreciative; others refused to miss the opener, and came anyway.
When the clock struck noon on opening day, those stubborn hunters found the field to be just as Atwell promised — full of food but nearly devoid of doves. Many of the hunters didn’t even bother finding a spot in the field; they were content to sit in the mottled shade of a leafy oak, smelling the delicious smoke wafting from a portable barbecue pit and swapping stories about previous openers.
Every now and then, a shot or two would thunder from the adjacent field, and a dove that missed the migration would tumble to the earth under a puff of feathers.
The scarcity of the shots, however, was clearly disappointing to Atwell.
“I can’t tell you how heart-broken I am right now,” he said. “This field was full of doves a week ago.”
And it was full of birds the previous years as well, according to Bill Daniels, who always makes the opening-day hunt with Atwell.
“I can’t remember the last time we didn’t limit,” he said. “Even when it’s been raining, we’ve limited.”
But Atwell was confident his short-term heartbreak would turn to long-term joy. This year’s season stretches 70 days, and the veteran hunter knew that the early fronts would push out resident birds but they’d eventually usher in migratory birds.
“Resident birds are crazy,” he said. “You can’t ever count on them.
“Migratory birds are much more predictable.”
Opening days are always special, since they offer the first opportunity to fire shots in anger in eight months, but Atwell says the best hunting is later in the season for true dove fanatics.
And Atwell includes himself as a dove fanatic.
“You’ve got to really love this to spend as much time as I do preparing fields, not to mention the acreage I have tied up in dove feed,” he said.
He explained that he gets hunters of all skill ranges on opening day, but as the fall wears on, many of those hunters move on to ducks, squirrels or deer, leaving his fields for the passionate birders, who get to enjoy the best hunting of the year.
“I’ll always call a hunt by 4 o’clock, but most of our hunts end before that because everybody’s gotten their limits,” he said.
And much of Atwell’s work is geared toward feeding the appetites of the birds that will be arriving after the residents leave. He did much of his sunflower planting in mid July to coordinate the beginning of the sunflower drop with the arrival of the migrators.
“You can figure sunflowers will start dropping 90 days from planting,” he said.
If the ground underneath his stands of sunflowers is barren and devoid of other vegetation, he’ll allow the seeds to fall out of the flowers on their own. It’s almost like having a self-generating, continuous food source for the doves.
To help keep the ground “clean,” Atwell spreads a pre-emerge chemical before sowing the seeds, and he works the ground over and over again.
But in rainy summers, even his best efforts can’t keep unwanted grasses from sprouting up. If the ground gets covered up with other vegetation, it’s certainly not a deal-breaker. Atwell will simply go in and cut strips of sunflowers, forcing the seeds to the churned ground, where they’re accessible to the doves. This setup isn’t ideal because it puts a lot of seed onto the ground at once, where it is susceptible to the elements.
“If it rains after you cut it, that seed will either sprout or mildew, and then it’s useless to the doves,” he said.
Sunflower seeds are particularly attractive to migratory doves because they’re high in protein and oil, which is good for the birds’ feathers, Atwell said. This year he planted black perodovic sunflower, which is exceptionally high in protein.
“Once the birds find a consistent food source, they won’t leave it, as long as it’s high in protein,” he said.
But Atwell doesn’t depend on sunflowers alone. He also plants pearl millet along the edges of his fields.
“I typically plant millet the first 30 feet or so around the field,” he said. “It’s by far the easiest to grow, and will sometimes be a perennial.”
He greatly prefers pearl millet to browntop millet.
“If you put out seed for doves in your backyard, watch and see what they eat first,” he said. “The first thing gone is the sunflowers, then the pearl millet and then after everything else is gone, they’ll eat the browntop millet.”
Doves also love the seeds of teaweed and birdeye, two weeds that can be planted but also frequently sprout up on their own.
“Those are natural foods for them,” Atwell said. “Those are the two seeds that used to come up in bean fields before they came up with Roundup-ready beans. The birds weren’t coming in the fields to eat the soybeans; they were coming in to eat the teaweed and birdeye.”
Although Atwell cursed the season’s first front, by early October, he’ll welcome every one that barrels down from the Canadian prairie.
“We typically get our first migratory birds the early part of October,” he said. “Come October, we’re wanting the north winds; the more fronts the better.”
For Atwell, it’s important that these birds find his fields and the food lying on them, and that they feel they have a sanctuary there.
“Birds attract more birds,” he said. “If you get a few birds and you hunt them hard and drive them out, it’s going to take longer for other birds to find your field.”
As such, Atwell is extremely conservative in the pressure he places on his fields. He allows hunting only on Saturdays and only in the afternoons.
“The only exception to that is we hunt the last three days of the season,” he said. “By then I’m not really concerned about keeping birds in my fields.”
A dove will typically fly off the roost around dawn, and enter a field to feed. If it finds abundant resources, the bird will get its feeding done in an hour or less, and will then go to a water source for a drink before cruising to a powerline or tree limb to spend the middle of the day resting and digesting its meal. Then, sometime that afternoon, the bird will fly off its temporary roost and return to the field to feed before heading to its nighttime roost before dusk.
Atwell has found that on sunny days, the birds won’t return to the fields en masse until about 2:30. On cloudy or exceptionally cold days, they’ll get to the fields earlier — around noon or 1 p.m. — so they can fill their bellies before the weather gets too unfavorable.
Either way, Atwell calls the hunt at 4 p.m. to give the birds time to feed without having to worry about dodging shotgun blasts.
“If you shoot until sundown, the birds don’t have any opportunity to get in your field, and they’re probably not going to come back the next day,” he said.
Hunters who are disappointed by the early quitting time probably need to spend some hours sharpening their skills at their local five-stand or sporting-clay course.
“If you don’t have your limit by then, you’re probably not going to get it,” he said.
Atwell says all of the five fields he plants have three things in common: a nearby water source, a nearby roost and, obviously, plenty of feed. Those are the three ingredients, he says, that every field needs to be productive throughout the season.
Atwell’s fields are rimmed by fence rows as well as scattered trees, and these features influence the flight patterns of the birds. Wise hunters examine the fields before they choose their positions in order to place themselves in productive flight areas.
Since doves like to fly over edges, Atwell said it’s best to try to get positioned on the corners of the field or at a spot where fence rows intersect or meet. Tree lines or isolated trees also tend to draw the attention of flying doves, he said.
Atwell spends a lot of time watching his clients, but he loves to join in the fun as well. He targets the birds with a Browning Gold 12-gauge that he loads with No. 7 1/2 shot shells. Early in the season, he gets by with 1 1/8 ounces of shot, but as the season progresses he transfers to the more-expensive 1 1/4-ounce shot loads.
“The early (season) birds are dumb; they haven’t been shot at,” he said. “But later in the year, the birds are a lot warier, so you’re taking some longer shots. Also, it tends to be windier as the season goes along.”
That wind is usually ushered in by cold fronts — in the fall and winter, when Atwell welcomes them.
Mark Atwell can be reached at (337) 479-2101.
