A hunter's paradise in Vermont

The preserve is two miles north of the village. In a clearing is a trim log house the color of moose hide. It is the weekend retreat of the owner of the preserve, Joseph Palombo, and posh it is not. Hunters check in at what is essentially an attached garage. Rick Fallar greeted me at the door and ushered me into a thoroughly male domain: dark-stained wood everywhere, an aging sofa, a wagon wheel chandelier, a couple of mounted pheasants, snapshots of grinning guys posing with antlers. In the center, an old black woodstove cranks out heat.

Fallar has managed the place for 20 years. Peak season is September through December, he said, so business is slow now. It was a sunny spring morning, and the air smelled wet and earthy. A few minutes later, a car pulled into the driveway. It was Brett Wright, a contractor, and his girlfriend, Sandy Predom, a loan officer at a Vermont bank. Next to arrive was Paul Schnitman, a dentist from Wellesley Hills, Mass. They had come not for the birds, but for the sporting clays, saucer-shaped discs that are hurled into the air for target practice.

''The clays are like a round of golf, but much more exciting," Schnitman said. ''The good thing about them is you don't have to kill anything."

He could frequent the many gun clubs in Massachusetts, even in Wellesley, he said, but this place is different.

''Where can you get a view like the one here?" he asked. ''You're in the country. The air is fresh. It's like you're in the wild. It's like watching the birds coming out."