For reasons known only to lexicographers and possibly grandmothers, many words in the English language mean the same thing. These are called synonyms. Some people think synonyms are unnecessary, but they abound in dictionaries and Thesauruses, and for that I’m thankful. Unlike most teenagers who can recycle a single utterance as a noun, verb, adjective or adverb, I like the plethora of different choices our language offers for saying what I mean. And as an outdoor writer, I use them all. With a Thesaurus, I can choose from clamber, scramble, scale and shin to relate my ascent during a chukar hunt. I can use fall, buckle, bounce, tipple, plunge and roll to describe my descent. If I find my quarry somewhere between, they may erupt, explode, detonate or burst from cover and then fly, skim, sail, soar, zip, zoom or wing to safety. When I have emptied my shotgun without cutting a feather, I can curse, cuss, swear or scream unless I am in the presence of a genteel individual (highly unlikely) whereupon I will merely mutter, mumble or grouse.