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Kamakazi Snows

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I know the kamakazi titles getting old, but if there was ever a hunt that epitomized the crazy Japanese bombers crashing out of the sky it was Mondays hunt. We where in the clouds as the morning sun tried to brighten the day. The duck spread sat motionless as the thick fog bank settled on the rice fields. No morning flight of greys, no whistling wings of pintail, no chuckling of specks, nothing but a constant la-la…la-la…la-la. We where around a “concentration”, as my good buddy Big Tex would say, and they where coming in hot. Waves of the big bodied snows began to appear out of the fog right on top of us. Most flying just high enough to stay out of range for the full choked 12 gauges…but not all. Volley after volley the kamakazi beast crashed into the water as the steal ripped through the fog. Blooosh...Blooosh...Blooosh music to my ears.
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