A day I will never forget. Me and a buddy went out to Oakwood Bottoms, a local flooded timber spot, on a late season hunt. We set-up in my favorite spot on the corner of a large hole where you can easily be seen by every duck that cruises through the area. As we're setting up a couple of other guys coming splashing by with their dog and set up in another hole just one hole over from us, about 75 yards off. The day starts off with the usual early flight of woodies, but no shots taken by us or the other hunters. About 9 am as we were standing and talking about nothing much we look up to see an enormous flight of mallards, easily 200-300 hundred birds, flying high coming from the river. As a joke I blew on the call once or twice and then went back to talking. A few minutes later we look back up and they were heading back the other way a little lower this time. It took a couple more passes for us to finally realize what was happening. With each pass that wad of ducks were coming closer and closer to us! We all stood there in amazement as every duck in that flight started to funnel into the hole between us and the other guys. I guess we were all stunned by the sight of this because no one shot. Suddenly the realization of what we had on our hands sunk in and that we hadn't shot a single shot hit us. Me and my buddy quietly discussed what we should do, here we had a ton of ducks sitting just yards away from us and we wanted them to come out our way. Suddenly the other guys dog got jumpy and took off. Every mallard in that flock came straight at us! I had always heard people talk about not being able to pick out one single bird in a big flock but have never experienced it until then. My first three shots only produced one bird and then I was shooting a single shot as I grabbed a shell out on my shell bag, loaded, and shot each time. As this is going on I hear somehting in the back of my mind but my focus was one hundred percent on these birds. As I reach for yet another shell my buddy gives me a sharp push and i realized the sound I was hearing was him. He had only come that day with 5 shells and was trying to get me to hand him a few. I finally tell him where the shell bag is, on my side of the tree we were standing next to, and go back to shooting. As I do so I keep hearing, "Sh*t", plop, Sh*t, plop". My buddy was in such a rush he grabbed and dropped at least 6 of my shells. As the last of the birds cleared out and the chaos ended, we began to gather them up. I had managed to scratch out 5 birds (ya not great but I was young and awe struck) and my buddy only killed 2 (apparently I wasn't the only one that was awe struck cause I've seen him make some amazing shots). Of course this all only lasted minutes but so much happened in those minutes that it seems like a lifetime looking back. we stood there for a few minutes just staring at the sky and then without a word to one another we begin picking up decoys. Without a word we both realized that this day was not going to get any better and we might as well pack it up. I can still see it all as if it happened just yesterday. If that never again happens in my life it would be ok with me, just to experience it once will fill a lifetime.