Let me start by saying when I moved to Texas four years ago, doves were two things to me:
1. Chocolate, wrapped in cute quotes.
2. Released at weddings to symbolize undying love and partnership.

Let me tell you what they were not:
1.Food.
2.A Season???

Opening day of dove season is like a national holiday for Texas- officially initiating the start of fall. Saeng says it’s in the air, it’s in the light. And there is some sort of breeze- ever so slight- that whispers of autumns arrival.

It’s true. The feeling of everyone shifts a little come September 1st. Lights illuminate the football fields on Friday nights and you hear marching bands in the distance. This is Texas. Y’all.

The day I witnessed my first fallen dove, was a bit traumatic. I wasn’t sure how I ended up somewhere where everything had the potential to be food.

So I sulked around and picked sunflowers...amidst the gunshots firing around me, a token of my apologies to the winged creatures. So if you are reading this and are a bit appalled- or like Jess, who are you? I get it.

Over the past four years with Saeng, watching him hunt and process meat, I’ve been forced to confront my own viewpoint of food.

To choose if I could support locally sourced, sustained and organic harvesting of seasonal meat. Or if I couldn’t. Which would mean I would be a vegetarian. Which I've tried, but I'm just not.

I’ve had a lot of back and forth around it, and sometimes- even today- still do. I feel that sometimes as a culture in America, we turn away from feelings of discomfort. Distracting ourselves from embracing and feeling the things that are the essence of life. Don’t really want to know how the chicken crossed the road to Whole Foods.

As Aty held his fallen friends on dove day- he said-
“They so beautiful”

I felt shame and pride simultaneously. Shame that he was witnessing death so young, but proud that he had this experience to understand where food comes from and also, experience that reverence and beauty of an animal up close.

So, to comfort myself, I called my dad. Obviously.
Well The man was tickled pink!
He raved on about how my grandmother and grandfather hunted doves and prepared them in Poland. From the intricate details of removing the feathers- to the temperature used to cook the birds on the skillet. It was as if, not a minute had passed since his last dove dish.

I found it so endearing listening to him light up like that. Food, tradition, family...they do that to us, make us feel alive, pause time.

He was so excited to see Atlas hold them on FaceTime, like a glimpse of his past. Same with my mother in law- Dodi. The vegetarian.

As we walked the golden fields at sunrise, she reminisced of doing the same thing with her father. And somehow stomached it all as she took in Saenger and Atys wonderment.

My son and my daughter are 7th generation Texans. I don't know, apparently that's rare. Don't get me started...I'm just getting my toes wet here. Sometimes I'm still a little bitter we aren't hiking the Rocky Mountains, or snowboarding the Great Divide of my childhood. But I like to think of this significance when I look at Sanger and Atlas, who seem to just literally have something coursing in their veins. A biological inheritance for the season.

And who knows how long my dad's family survived off doves with gravy and potatoes in Polandia! So all around it's just an experience that I've chosen to embrace, although like I said... still working through the rawness of it all.

Inheriting passed down traditions and life experiences is the gravy. It’s the smell of biscuits at 5 AM, the breaking of dry grass beneath boots and dual shots echoing in the fields and the everescent lighting of daybreak that we grasp onto - those flickers of magic and depth- spending time with the people we love.

Speaking of Passing down good stuff... Atlas and I scored our dove hunting gear, courtesy of Goodwill on Friday. I hadn't exactly acquired all the necessary apparel to trek through the snake infested hay fields, or ward off the sun. I couldn't have been more thrilled with what I found!! (Pictured below: Gathering prickly pears for upcoming dinner...stay tuned)

Among the loot: Cole Hann brown suede riding boots, riding pants, Certified Italian leather backpack, Linen J.Crew Boyfriend Shirt, Silk scarf handmade in Japan, "America Ya'll" Graphic Tee and Rockmount Wool Hat. For Atlas, olive green overalls that I cut and hemmed up a bit and a simple tee.

When I was chatting with Lena from Austin Goodwill, I asked her a little more about the company that just celebrated their 60th anniversary. 89% of every purchase goes toward education and employment.

In Austin, the local office has a whole second floor school for adults to earn their GED's, empowering them to obtain careers. So in addition to scoring outrageous deals, every purchase improves our communities and enhances the livelihood of thousand of people.

Inheriting traditions, or vintage finds...this week definitely brought me together with people I love and spurred on some creative juices. Stay tuned for a follow up post documenting the preparation of our opening day dinner.

Texas Dove Season Tradition + Outfitting