loading crank and settled in. The old white oak broke up my silhouette and served as a comfortable backrest. I sat back against the trunk and watched as the sun began to rise above the top of the Blue Mountain Ski Area. A few patches of snow still were visible where the ski trails were shaded from the spring sun. Migrating and resident songbirds kept me entertained with their movements and songs while I waited for gobbler to respond to my crow and owl calls. There were no audible gobbles. I made a few clucking sounds with my homemade box call. There were still no responses. At 7:07 a.m., a healthy-looking red fox materialized from the marshy area and trotted across the cornfield about 30 yards from my decoys. The fox stopped, stared at the artificial turkeys for about 30 seconds, then continued across the field and quickly disappeared into the thick tree line at the northern end of the field. I assumed the fox's quick departure implied that the scents emitted from my rubber decoys were not very appetizing. Around 9:35, I was tempted to revisit one of my long-standing flawed hunting habits - the urge to move to another position. PPPPPP I've always lacked the patience to stay in one spot for very long when I'm set up. And I realized I had already been sitting for three hours and 35 minutes; a very long time for me. Fortunately, I also realized I should stay where I was, and that thought overpowered my desire to move. I did stand up to stretch, and walked about 20 yards to the opposite end of the wide tree line where I looked around at the surrounding area with my binoculars. There was a low spot in the middle of an uncultivated field behind me that recently had filled with rainwater. Several wood ducks took flight as I stood watching the water hole. I thought I heard soft gobbling at the same time the 4 WWW.PENNGAMENEWS.COMhttp://WWW.PENNGAMENEWS.COM