The Old North Blind had a long and interesting life. Lab pups gnawed its door frames and Canada geese nested in it. Wet, gloved hands were warmed over its charcoal stove while sausage patties sizzled over glowing coals.
Like the men who hunted from it, it began to sag in the middle and its joints loosened with age. Rotten joists were replaced and new plywood flooring added, to be covered once again with muskrat droppings, spent shotgun shells and assorted feathers.
In spite of annual repairs the blind finally became so dilapidated we feared it could no longer support the weight of men, guns and dogs. So in 2015, like a faded, tattered old flag, it was honorably retired by burning.