The early morning, before the sun is up, decoys are set up in black chiseled cornfield. Ground blinds are placed strategically within the decoy spread and time is spent concealing the blinds to the natural cover. I open my blind bag and grab three shotgun shells. I double check that my safety is on and load my semi-auto. The night before the geese were thick in this same very field. It gives you motivation that the hunt will be great, once the birds leave their roost to come feed their pallets. The wait is on and we move around to keep the blood in our fingers and toes circulating from the cold crisp air. Jokes and stories crack warming laughter in that very field to pass the time before the flight begins.

The decoys dance in the wind. Their flocked heads and distinct carved details create a realistic look like no other. The spread is alive and we will turn up the volume with our short reed goose calls once we see a flock in the distant horizon. From the southeast, a dark cloud arises. The first flock has risen to the sky on a latitude flight headed to our field for a morning delight. Wings pump hard and they take more shape as they near. Our hail calls ring loud and carry hopefully to the game in the sky. We pump our goose flags to simulate landing geese. Giving movement to the spread adds so much realism to the eye. We strive for their attention. We want them to notice us.

The birds get closer and we go into a basic clucking sequence, in tune. The geese start to lock up their wings to coast into range. You can see a distinct goose extending his neck out, looking from side to side as if he was checking out our spread to make sure it was legit or perhaps trying to find the perfect place to land and eat breakfast. They beat their wings some more and coast. Instead of dumping in, they make a pass around our spread lowering gracefully in altitude. We cannot move abruptly in our layout blinds in fear of making them flare out of range. Eyes look down and our heads tipped low. I watch my retriever’s eyes as she watches them make their pass behind us. I stay low and know when they will hit my peripheral eyesight by watching her eyes - locked on them as they come around.

As they make the last pass, they hook quickly and slow down to land into the wind in front of us. They drop their landing gear: foot paddles. These big black webbed toes are a sight to see. They lock up their wings and descend in for a smooth landing. We wait to call the shot and finish them off with some soft murmurs and clucks. They hit under the twenty yard mark, the shot is called…Blind doors pop open and gun barrels are raised to the shoulders. Shots are fired…

The birds fold into the open hole within the spread. The other geese pump hard to pull out of the spread. Unfazed by what had just took place, we close up our doors to our blinds and hit them hard with our comeback calls. The birds try to work back into place but they end up peeling out of that last pass one more time. Such a large bird, but so elegant in the sky. The best part of the last pass is on a calm day without a blowing wind, you can distinctively hear their wings beat and sail through the air as they softly rumble and murmur, eager to land. Such a sight to see and hear; what an experience to be a part of the final last pass.