The most ridiculous conversation I have had in weeks started out with a simple visit to Bong Recreational Park. Who names a park that anyway? This is a park that is stocked for pheasant hunting. Who names a park that when there is hunting involved? Seriously? You can see that this conversation could easily take turns that make no sense. Who goes for a ride in a park looking to shoot pictures as others (lots of others) are looking to shoot animals???
I grew up a Hunter Safety daughter. I respect firearms, the 2nd amendment and the rights of hunters. The thing is pheasants are to pretty to hunt. Wood Ducks are to pretty to hunt. They should be illegal to hunt much like Loons are. Being that I was with the Hunter Safety Dad that idea was never really going to fly. No pun intended. I could say it better that the idea did fly … right into a tree and then crashed and burned. Much like the pheasant he got there one year, which had crashed into a tree and fallen. It was story from a dad to a daughter to remind her of where she came from. Now I don’t know about you but from where I am sitting I can say it did remind me of where I came from. It also reminded me that this family is a tad on the off side.
Now I love my dad. So I felt the need to point it out that he had inspired me to go and find some pheasants to photograph. I further said that I would use those photos to spread far and wide on a crusade to show that pheasants are not to be hunted. I rarely use my photography to make a point like this. I am far more subtle in making points. I let the viewer come to their own conclusion. I rarely smack an idea across someone face or into a tree for that matter. Stay tuned pheasant pictures are probably on the horizon. Call it a symbolic coming into my own.