As the first glow of November daybreak warmed the Hickory Hill cabin's frosty windows, I could hear rustlings in the dark room. Red, the big English Setter began to nudge his master awake. Les had assured me that this would be a day of grouse hunting to remember... My hunting memories are of other dawns in the deep south, of barking hounds and pickup trucks, but birds were not our game... Red proved even better than his billing and after two short hours in the woods had pointed a dozen birds. Eight times the sound of thundering wings, three times brown blurs and one clean shot blessed with beginner's luck. One shot, one grouse and a decision to let the perfect score stand... at least as long as I can resist the urge to get back into the woods.

My admiration is better expressed in paint than in words and "Double Flush" is a tribute to the brown-winged king of the game birds.