09/22/2025
Texas Teal - A tradition that runs deep.
It doesn’t matter how many seasons I’ve sat in a blind—opening morning teal always feels different. The air is heavy, sweat is already running down my back even before the sun clears the horizon. The mosquitos swarming from every angle. The dog shifts at my side, muscles tight, eyes locked on the dark water ahead. Shotgun across my knees, I wait in the half-light, every sense on edge. Then it comes—the rush of wings, fast and sharp, cutting across the marsh mocking the sound of a jet plane slicing through the sky, and just like that, another season begins.
To some it makes no sense. To us, it makes all the sense in the world.
📷 -
