For decades, the flooded green-timber reservoirs of east Arkansas have attracted duck hunters from across the country. They still do.

"The flooded timber of Arkansas is as famous in the world of duck hunting as it is unique and plentiful," writes Brent Birch, an authority on the history of duck hunting in the state. "There are pockets of hunting ducks under a canopy of flooded oak trees in other states, but no place on Earth compares to the opportunities in Arkansas--not only through the famed private clubs but also state-managed public lands such as Bayou Meto, Black River, Hurricane Lake, Black Swamp and Bayou DeView.

"Waterfowlers near and far have traveled to Arkansas since the early 20th century in hopes of timing their trip right to catch mallards maple leafing through the limbs and leaves of Arkansas' flooded bottomland forests. Mallards come to these areas not only in search of food via red oak acorns and invertebrates but also for refuge and overhead thermal cover. Typically chasing the edge of the floodwaters, mallards will inhabit flooded timber on clear days with abundant sunshine."

In the early 1900s, rice producers began building reservoirs for irrigation purposes. The timber often was left in those reservoirs, and hunters soon noticed that ducks liked the flooded timber. After trees in reservoirs died, water from them was used to flood adjoining stands of hardwoods each duck season.

One of the first large reservoirs was Tindall Reservoir in Arkansas County.

"Ducks claw at the sky as every square inch of the timber hole seems to be filled with green heads, white breasts, yellow bills and orange feet," T. Edward Nickens writes for Ducks Unlimited. "This is the scene so many duck hunters yearn for: ducks in the timber and ducks in your face. It's an iconic form of waterfowling, which is experienced in perhaps its highest form in the massive, primeval bottomland forests of Arkansas. That's where I watched 50 mallards funnel into a timber hole hardly 50 feet across.

"And it's where I've returned time and again to relive that scene, that feeling of incredulous awe on public lands, on private leases, with guides and outfitters, and with family and friends. Arkansas is where I want my kids and their kids to stand in water up to their knees and look up at a providential sky full of mallards. But that's not a given. In fact, it's getting harder to come by. Thankfully, habitat managers, duck hunters and other conservationists are doing something about it.

"Arkansas' storied green-timber duck hunting heritage is at a crossroads. To put it plainly, the human-manipulated flooded forests that have sustained a half century of waterfowling's finest flooded timber duck hunting are dying. Through a combination of natural and manmade factors, the woods are being flooded earlier and are holding more water for longer periods of time than ever before. The result is vast swaths of trees........

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