Everywhere I look I see signs of Fall.
Goldenrod always brings back memories of my youth. Hunting weedfields and grown over fence rows with my beagle Queenie, my first hunting dog.
A Hawthorn bearing particularly large fruit.
The signs of fall are signs of days to be spent afield making memories of hunts that are special not because of filled gamebags but because of the moments spent with a special dog and a special gun.
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