Across much of the South the opening of dove season is a social gathering marked by lots of shooting, good-natured ribbing among friends and, after the shooting is done, a Southern-style barbecue complete with a cold beverage or two.

We closed our bar tab, unplugged phone chargers, and grabbed our sporting hats when our flight was called to board. Menial, yet over-priced, airport champagne was the night-cap I craved for the 8pm flight out of Dallas. 

As we boarded the plane, we looked for our assigned seats with elation. Settling in, I reached for my notebook, Andrew opened his iPad, and we were ready for our adventure. 

Beneath a Texas mesquite tree, I sat on the camo bucket seat with a 20-gauge Zoli Expedition EL resting across my lap, watching skyward for doves.