By Edgar Castillo
December. Decorations. Christmas. The holiday season is well upon us, including the hustle and bustle that tends to leave us all wishing for more time to enjoy with our family and friends as well as those brief moments in the uplands. Did I mention cheesy holiday songs?
Who's to say that time afield rejoicing in the winter wonderland activity of upland hunting is not in the spirit of Christmas? To the contrary! Here, then, is an upland version of a Christmas classic...
Man, It's Cold Outside: A Wingshooter’s Christmas Carol
I really can't stay (but man, it's cold outside)
I've got to get the hunt on the way (but man, it's cold outside)
This morning’s set up is’n a wetland (watching the ducks drop in)
I don’t have to think twice (my hands got wet, they're just like ice)
My hunting partner will start to worry (the grouse are bountiful, I’m certainly in no hurry?)
My dream is to hunt the nor’woods forest floor (listen to the wingbeats roar)
Those desert quail really like to scurry (beautiful birds please don't fly off in a flurry)
But maybe just a half mile more (tighten my leather boots while I hunt a little bit more)
Wonder what those other wing shooters might think (man, it's bad out there)
Say what do 'ya think? (plenty of sharptails to be had out there)
A long-tail flushed just now (two shots fired, pow pow)
To break this upland spell (I’ll wear my orange hat, my twelve bore looks swell)
Bring on the snow, snow, snow…brrr (it’s the late season, the month of December)
At least…
Bring on the snow, snow, snow…brrr (mind if I move in and hunt your covert?)
But maybe next season, I’ll try a side-by-side (what's the sense in using a huntin' guide?)
I must contest, but I’d rather not say (oh man watch that vizsla cast about)
But Man, it's cold outside
I need to hunt slow (but man, it's cold outside)
The numbers aren’t low (but man, it's cold outside)
I reckon it’s been (wings flappin’ in the wind)
Hunted twice through the corn (look out for the thistles and thorns)
My hunting trips tend to be ambitious (gosh those roosters can be malicious)
My lab will be waiting at the door (waves of birds, gunned a limit of four)
I tell others my hunts are fictitious (gosh those timber-doodles are delicious)
But maybe just a hillside more (never fixed and eaten woodcock gizzard before)
I've gotta get home (but man, I’m goin’ freeze out there)
Say lend me your Orvis coat (it's up to my gaiters out there)
This bird hunt has really been grand (always a thrill when wood and metal touch my hand)
Habitat is the key. (Wonder what I’ll get under the Christmas tree?)
There's bound to be boasting tomorrow (no birds for a while, I’ll be filled with sorrow)
Enjoyin’ watchin’ the dog cast far and wide (flushing feathers and long glides)
I really can't stay (need to get that over and under out)
Man, it's cold
Man, it's cold outside