Wood ducks could use a little help finding housing

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When I was growing up and we grabbed shotguns and headed out in winter to the slough to duck hunt, our quarry was wood ducks. Why? They comprised about 99% of the ducks that lived in my part of the country; we seldom saw any other species.

I remember standing in hip boots in the back water of a slough at daylight and hearing the whir of wings and the high-pitched squeal of incoming ducks that would dive and dart kamikaze style through the trees. Trying to connect with one resulted in far more misses than hits. However, should I be lucky enough to down one, my mom and her old Dutch oven could convert a wood duck into manna rivaling that recorded in the Bible.



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