The beauty of the fall is that when it's too cold or windy to fly fish, or flows are not ideal, you can pursue your hand at other quarry like pheasants, ducks, geese, or grouse. With the recent passage of a strong cold front, I was fortunate to bear witness to the beginnings of the great migration. Mallards filled the sky, circling the freshly combined crops of corn, forming a great vortex as they spiraled out of the sky competing with each other over the corn rubble. Canadian geese, both lessers and greaters, amassed in giant flocks, darkening the sky with their silhouettes. Real estate on the earthen fields was a precious commodity as ganders of honkers gathered to feed and rest before their long trip south. Rivers and larger bodies of water that remained free of ice, held dozens upon dozens of trumpeter swans at bay.
The Great Migration is a wondrous feat of nature, worthy of capturing in person at least once in your lifetime. I was fortunate to be present for this spectacle with a pair of lenses to capture it all. Here is my account: