Tradition

September first is opening day of dove season. Always. Never changes. Doran Rice, Sr. was born on September first. Kind of fitting for the beginning of this tradition that has spanned from father to son to grandson. This year, the un-tradition was...the record breaking heat. Typically, the weather in August is very warm, but is broken up with monsoon rains that serve to cool some of the days. This year, we had 30 days over 100 degrees, and 17 over 110 degrees! This also means that the nights are forever...and hot. I run, very early. I have awoken, very very early, and it isn't unusual for it to be 99 degrees..in the dark.

So, I didn't think they would even go on September 1st. Boy was I wrong! So, no hot cinnamon rolls were ready when Dad and Nate left...Ethan and Doran had to work. I hurried my task...the cinnamon rolls... while they were gone.

Beau, our dog, love to hunt. In fact, he hopped right in to the wrong jeep. He sat in the back. He refused to move. Dad and Nate loaded Dad's jeep. Finally, Beau realized that he would not get to hunt if he did not get out of one, and in to the other.

Birds were few. Dad had to get to a meeting in Tempe. Nate hunted on. He returned home...to hot cinnamon rolls. (I was saved.)

They tried again on Saturday. Ethan came. Beau was just as excited. In fact, once they located a legal hunting area (Phoenix Police had to guide them), he ran head on into a barbed wire fence...and didn't notice. He gets very focused when it comes to birds...and bread!

Still, it was a great time for those who like to hunt, and like hunting birds - no matter what the weather, to get together. For those who like to eat birds...well, not so much.