A Wood Duck, a Risk, and a Quiet Morning in Windsor NC

Some milestones don’t happen loudly.

They arrive quietly, just before daylight, standing knee-deep in dark water while the swamp wakes up around you.

January 8th and 9th will always be that for me.

Day One: The Try That Didn’t Pan Out

On January 8th, we did everything right—or at least everything by the book. The alarm went off early, the air was cold, and the swamp in Windsor, North Carolina felt still and expectant. The kind of morning that makes you believe today might be the day.

But ducks don’t care about hope.

We waited. We listened. We watched light slowly break through the trees. A few birds flew in and the guys shot three. However, I never fired my gun, I was more awestruck by the beauty of the morning and the birds flying in, that I just got lost in the moment.

Still, there was no frustration—just that familiar feeling of unfinished business and the hope that eventually everything would work in my favor.

Day Two: Choosing the Risk

January 9th was different.

Instead of repeating what hadn’t worked, Brad Ward made the call to take a risk. A different spot. A different plan. A willingness to trust experience over comfort.

That’s something I’ve learned hunting alongside Sans Souci Outfitters—you don’t force success. You adapt to the land and let it tell you where to be.

The swamp that morning felt alive in a quieter way. Peaceful. Almost reverent. The moon reflected in the water that was barely moving and just before the sun completely came up ducks began talking softly in the distance. The kind of morning that makes you slow down without trying.

The Moment It Finally Happened

When it finally came together, there was no doubt.

The shot felt clean. Certain. And there was no confusion, I knew—this one was mine.

A beautiful drake wood duck.

That moment when you hold your first duck is hard to explain unless you’ve chased it for a while. It’s relief. Pride. Gratitude. And something deeper—like closing a chapter you didn’t realize was still open.

The monkey was officially off my back.

Why This One Mattered

This wasn’t just about checking a box or getting a photo. It was about learning patience, trusting the process, and understanding that sometimes success comes only after you’re willing to change course.

Early mornings in the swamps around Windsor have a way of stripping everything down to what matters: quiet, intention, and being present enough to recognize the moment when it finally arrives.

That wood duck will always remind me of that. I will always be thankful to Brad of Moana Sportfishing and Sans Souci Outfitters, for making it happen.