Last week I found myself in the back seat of my cousin Tom’s SUV loaded to the gills with firearms, luggage, and a caged Atlas (an eager hunting dog). Months ago he planned a pheasant hunting trip with his uncle (my 83-year-old father) to South Dakota. Knowing I’m not an avid hunter, they asked me to document the event with my camera.

Hunters with shotguns, and I with a Canon, spend four days about 90 miles west of Sioux Falls in Plankinton with Bill Folan at Folan Ranch. With more than 2,000 acres to hunt, we stalk pheasant hiding in draws, sloughs, grassland, and rows of corn, millet, and sorghum. I follow both “walkers” and “blockers” while doing my best to stay out of the line of fire. We call out “hen” or “rooster” and I do my best to catch the action.

The weather is unpredictable this time of the year. The spirit and sense of place is huge with views from the American heartland. Mr. Folan, a patient host, is a knowledgeable rancher and farmer. While hunters sleep in, Folan allowed me to join him in early-morning cattle feeding and tending to frustrating equipment challenges. I gain incredible respect for this man who diligently tends to his family legacy, especially its beautiful Fields of Gold.