There is so much to enjoy about the landscapes of our state which have unsurpassed variety—from the alluring mountains to the breathtaking seashore, from the picturesque hills to the graphic piney woods and much in between.

I have had the good fortune to have set foot in every one of our state’s 159 counties.  I have fished many of its streams and raised a toast every time there was an opportunity to cast a fly or lure into the creeks and rivers of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Intracoastal waterway.

If you are a native Georgian and have not done that, you have missed something resonating and gratifying.  I simply cannot get enough of this bountiful state.

With November coming on, there is plenty of quail hunting.  If you want an outdoor experience that is as arresting as there is, follow a bird dog on a point in the waving sagebrush and whispering pines of South Georgia.     If you bring down a brace of quail on a covey rise, there is more than the satisfaction of fluent marksmanship—you can bring home your supper.

In my mind’s eye I can see an English pointer bounding though the woods of Covey Rise Plantation near Camilla.  Suddenly, he wheels, U-turning at the whiff of a Bob White quail.  Then he pads softly and quietly in the direction of a huddling covey of quail.

As the guide speaks encouragement to the pointer, you marvel that the scene is framed in a classic pose.  The dog’s tail is rigidly curved, like a scimitar, his left front foot folded under his chest.  Suddenly there is an explosion of birds as eager hunters enjoy a rush that makes their day.

If there were an opportunity to recount all the wonderful outdoor experiences in print, several volumes would result.   Georgia is that exceptional. Then there is the Masters in April and Georgia football in the fall.  Visitors constantly leave our environs with “Georgia on their mind.”

This has been a challenging year.  Summer’s heat has lingered longer than we would like and then there was the brute force and aftermath of Helene, leaving us with the resignation that “Mother Nature giveth, but she also taketh away.” 

Fall color is not what it has been, according to friends who live in the northern half of the state, but there will still be festivals and celebrations as there have been through the years.

The trout have returned to the streams in our northern sector.  The mention of that phrase brings about flashbacks from the past when one stands knee deep in the Chattahoochee, casting into a swirling surf with a lure that will not escape the keen eyesight of a silvery rainbow.   

Straight away, your line becomes taut.  This fish has swagger, he has verve. He will not go quietly.  You keep yourself under control, applying a measured touch to ensure that you win the battle.  When he slips into your net, you want a photo.  

When the print is framed for your wall, you give him a hearty “thumbs up,” knowing you not only enjoyed an enriching experience, but you also released him to live to fight another day.