One Cold Duck

A photographic essay.
by Bill Buckley
From the February/March 2010 Issue

Barometer dropping, wind picking up, snow pushing in with the tide.

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A classic New England northeaster brewing—the bane of mariners and beachfront property owners, a welcome boon for waterfowlers.
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One black duck. That’s the limit. But this isn’t about filling a bag. It’s about tossing those decoys into the surf, getting that one good shot, that one clean kill, that warm contentment shared between hunter and dog.
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