Another day of checking hunters and their game. Busy. Didn't get inside to take my first sip of coffee for at least two hours.

Sixty percent of the time, the weather was this:

Can you tell where my friend parked her truck when she stopped by to visit?

Another 20 percent of the time, it was doing this:

The missing 20 percent?

Like this:

Brief periods of cold wind when Mother Nature sat back and tried to decide what to throw at us next. It made me quite grateful I was sitting on my pea gravel parking lot, instead of slogging through the mud in the hills.

And glad I slipped on my thermals before heading out this morning.

In the midst of checking trucks in the middle of the thickest snow (bad weather naturally makes most hunters head for home, which unfortunately brings them to me during the most inclement times), I happened to look down.

And noticed one of the last vestiges of Summer past.

The most amusing moment of the day?

When two gentlemen hung around outside their truck for a few minutes after I had finished with them and cleared them to leave.

Seems that, thanks to their womenfolk, the designated smoking area was...

Outside.

In the rain.