It’s four in the morning and the Duranko sisters, Emily ’16 and Jessie ’18, are crouched down, holding their breath, concentrating deeply on a faint rustle that is caused by more than just the wind.

A flock of geese is about a quarter mile away, hidden through the dense pine trees and countless decoys.  Alongside the careful eye of their father and his hunting dog, Blue, the sisters are sure they’ll have dinner on the table tonight.

“You sit for a really long time — you have to be patient,” Emily said.

Jessie swiftly trades her Dunkin Donuts iced coffee for her BB gun. She treads lightly over the sodden earth as it squelches under her boots. Her eyes slit as she stares down the barrel.

“My dad will say ‘Go, Blue,’ [signaling] my dog to chase the geese to come flying over us,” Jessie said.

Holding her breath, she pulls back the trigger, and immediately her entire body is jolted backwards. The sound breaks the near dead quiet of the forest, and a frenzy of geese erupts into the dusk.

Like the Durankos, Hunter Duffy ’18, a Staples student who can trace his hunting lineage back “from my father to his father, and his father before him,” does not lack in hunting and fishing experience.

By the time Duffy was barely a tween, he was already wrestling fish the size of large toddlers. In fact, one of Duffy’s self-described “oddest” memories came at the age of nine in upstate New York near the Canadian border.

It was there where the nine-year-old Duffy hooked into a 40-plus pound King Salmon. But, Duffy said, that wasn’t the odd part. “The crazy part of the story is the fish almost pulling me down the river while I frantically tried to communicate with the French-speaking Canadians,” Duffy said.

Although some Westporters might claim that hunting and fishing only takes place amongst a select few in Fairfield County, there is actually a considerable contingent of hunter aficionados in the area.

“As much as you don’t see people hunting around here, we are a tight community of conservation enthusiasts who mostly you might never suspect as being hunters,” Duffy said.

Part of the reason for the belief that the outdoor community is so small is because of the controversial aspects of hunting. “Some people feel that the killing of animals isn’t right, or that I get satisfaction out of watching an animal suffer,” Duffy said.

However, hunters and fishers like Duffy and the Durankos can often have a positive impact on the community.

“We eat just about everything we can from the deer and often donate parts … to charities working with those in poverty,” Duffy said. Often, the hides themselves can be turned into gloves and hats for military veterans. They also help to keep down the growing deer population in Westport and other Connecticut towns.

Nevertheless, those who hunt can feel dissuaded by judgemental glares from peers and even complete strangers. As a result, many students at Staples who hunt with family members or close friends do not go around flaunting their most recent kills. “I never tell any of my friends,” Emily Duranko ’16 said.

A remedy for this can be a trip up north, to where hunting vests and guns are a daily sight. “In Vermont you can walk around in camo with your gun and no one judges,” Emily said.

Furthermore, like any popular activity, hunting can be enjoyable whether with friends or alone.

“I would do it again,” Emily said with a smile. “I mean, I feel bad for the animals, but it was fun.”

Now that spring has arrived, for Duffy and the Durankos, it’s time to again set the 3:30 a.m. alarm and trade out the unofficial Staples uniform of college logo wear, Vineyard Vines and Sperry’s for jet black face paint and head-to-toe camo.