There’s something about this time of year that speaks directly to my heart as a hunter. Maybe it's the anticipation of the waterfowl season opener passing, the rush and excitement of traveling to new and old destinations to hunt, yet knowing we still have weeks on the books and there’s no anxiety about the season coming to a close. The holidays have passed, yet their warmth lingers. Shared meals, stories, and the moments that remind us why we cherish this way of life. I sat in the blind this morning and took it all in – The frost on the ground before the sunrise, the sound of wings cutting through the crisp January air, the distant calls of birds looking for a place to fill their bellies, and It all reminds me why we do what we do. It’s not just about having success on our hunts; it’s about the history, the heritage, and the responsibility we carry to honor the traditions of those who came before us.
For generations, we as hunters have been the providers. Extending from Christmas to the start of a fresh year, there’s no better way to celebrate this role than with a roasted bird at the center of the table. But the sentiment runs deeper for hunters. It's our story. The story that ties us to the land, to our ancestors, and to the pride of doing things the right way, and finishing what we started.
Before modern conveniences and the abundance of domestic turkeys, the goose reigned supreme as the holiday centerpiece. Symbolized prosperity and abundance, it wasn’t Christmas without a golden-brown goose on the table.
Before the convenience of grocery stores, for hunters, the goose was symbolic, a reward for their effort and skill in the field. Every time we step into the marsh or tuck into the blind, we’re connecting with a tradition that runs deeper than most of us even realize.
If you think about it, hunting geese isn’t just another day in the field; it’s a rite of passage. These birds are some of the smartest, most elusive animals out there. They’ll circle a spread three or four times, looking for any flaw. They know how to use the wind, how to spot movement, and how to make even confident hunters question their spreads.
When you’re able to outsmart a flock and drop a bird from the sky, there’s a connection to something ancient. Thousands of years ago, early hunters depended on these same wild geese for survival, their feathers for warmth, their fat for fuel, and their meat to sustain their families through harsh winters. Today, the stakes might not be as high, but our pride in the hunt remains just as powerful.
I think about the generations of hunters before us—pioneers breaking trail through snow-covered prairies, kneeling in frozen grasslands with a single-shot shotgun. They didn’t hunt for sport; they hunted because it meant survival. And when they brought that bird home, it wasn’t just food. It was proof of their determination, their connection to the wild, and their ability to provide.
There’s something special about carving into a goose that you harvested yourself, a feeling a grocery store bird just can't replicate. It’s the pride in knowing you earned it. That every bite represents a story: the preparation, the moments spent in the blind, the camaraderie with friends, and the connection to the land that gave it to you.
Goose meat is rich and flavorful, and it demands care and respect in its preparation. This isn’t fast food. It’s a slow roast, paired with sides that speak to the season. The kind of meal that brings people together, makes you lean back in your chair when you’re done, and look around at your family with a sense of fulfillment that goes far beyond being full.
In today’s world, where convenience often replaces effort, hunting your own harvested goose is about keeping tradition alive, living a connected life, and teaching our kids that food doesn’t come from a plastic-wrapped package. It’s about showing them that the sweat, the cold, and the time spent outdoors mean something. It’s about preserving a connection to the animals we eat, and a connection to the past while building memories that will outlive us.
This new year, don’t just look at that goose as a meal. Look at it as a legacy carried forward. As hunters, we are a part of something greater than ourselves. We’re carrying on a tradition that’s as old as humanity itself. There is still pride in the hunt, pride in the feast, and knowing that what we do as hunters still matters!
Happy New, and Keep Talkin'.