by Jeff Wilkerson
23 Woodcock in 22 Years: Reflection on Hunting, the Night Sky and Our Place in the Universe
Published: November 2024
University of Iowa Press
Retail Price: $24

Woodcock cast a magical spell over many hunters. Much has been written about these migratory gamebirds, from lyrical poems and treatises to how-to discussions and biological books. When we ponder these mystical birds, their characteristics, migrations, habitat and hunting, our minds travel toward the north woods of the Great Lakes states or the Northeast. Likely, we imagine a pair of hunters traipsing along a damp bog, alder run or creek bottom following a brass-belled pointing dog, heading to coverts with names like “The Farm” “Lacy’s Romp,” and “Gallow Tree” – places that for those in the know, their hearts skip a beat when the words are whispered. We enter these sacred spots hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Never knowing if the winds or moons of the fall will deliver a flight of our prized quarry. While the dog searches for scent, the hunter scans for splash or whitewash and worm bores to provide a clue if they are early or late, straining to find the point, after the last vibrant yet subtle tinkle before the bell’s silence.
The dedicated woodcock hunter is usually a specialist, unlike Jeff Wilkerson, whom after reading his new book, “23 Woodcock in 22 Years: Reflection on Hunting, the Night Sky and Our Place in the Universe,” did I understand that he’s not a specialist. Instead, he’s a dedicated upland hunter.
The author describes himself early on as a “rough shooter.” That is, a walk-up hunter who uses his legs and desire to find birds instead of using a dog. For some, this may seem like sacrilege, but if this book taught me anything – and it taught me a great deal – it’s that there are many ways to find one’s pleasure afield and all of them are personal.
The author is a physics professor at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa, and teaches classes on astrophysics and astronomy. Throughout his book, he brings the world of stars, matter and anti-matter and the galaxies above us into the world of upland hunting in a fashion that has a fresh voice and presentation. Holding a woodcock in his hand, he ponders about its carbon release in comparison to the stars above us. He compares his study of stars to the footprints of public lands he hunts each fall in Iowa. Yes, Iowa! A state not known for woodcock, yet his pursuit is as dedicated as those hunters in more prolific states. His covers all become as unique as the stars in the sky he and his students research; their placement and changes in the natural world becoming the common denominator.
One note: a glossary of astronomy and physics terms would’ve been beneficial to the sporting readership. While I appreciate his honesty to the loss of birds due to the absence of a retriever, readers may also find this ethically disturbing. However, this book is memoir of a “rough shooter” – as in 22 years’ worth of woodcock hunting. Wilkerson uses his legs and mind to pursue game birds in the Hawkeye State in a very personal and moving way. While harvesting 23 woodcock in 22 years may not be the expectations of many, after reading this volume, I would leave my dogs for the day to hunt with this author in his covers. I’m certain that I would learn and it would be diverse. Hopefully, I would be able to keep pace with his stride.






