By Mac Arnold
MAHFS editor

I've been on rest duty the past two days to fight off a nagging hack while the torrential rains wash away the ark.

The lawn is beginning to grow elephant grass.

I'm coming down to that time in a season where I'm burnt out. I've put in all ... and have come up empty.

The experiences will live on.

I learned for sure not to drive down to the out buildings to park anytime soon at Dairy Farmer Dave's. That was an experience for the ears.

"It's too wet down there, nuthin's changed, park where I tell you," he chirped at me one day.

No problem. Totally a situation where I misunderstood what he meant when he first told me so. I thought it was a strategy thing since the birds sometimes roost near there.

It's gonna come down to the final weekend, starting on Sunday.

I won't quit. But it seems like I've got my work cut out for me.

In 2005, I did knock down a jake on the next to last day of the spring season in Michigan.

It can be done.

Another time, in West Virginia, I shot a bird in the last hour of my hunt.

Really, though, it just feels like one of those seasons. The opportunities haven't been there.

I didn't hear a gobble until the evening of May 22 when I was walking out of the woods. A perfect time to roost one for the next morning's hunt, unfortunately, I couldn't get there until after 9 a.m. because I had to put the kids on the bus.

Yep, it's been one of those seasons all right.