My internal alarm
clock goes off at 5 am despite the one next to my bed being set at 5:30…my
mind’s way of telling my body not to over sleep on opening day. I wipe my eyes
open and force my contacts under the swollen lids, burning with saline solution
as I squint my way into the kitchen. The boy is already up and moving and
dressed to go…I rummage through the fridge, find a piece of cheese and grab an
oatmeal cookie as I slam down a diet coke for my morning caffeine fix and we’re
out the door…
Racing out SR250 like a couple of vampires
running from the break of dawn, we make it to the farm just in time as the sun
barely cracks the purple sky. We beat
tracks across the no till field to the safety of our dark, hidden little blind
tucked away in the shadows at the edge of the trees…Organized we’re not, but
everything, including us seems to find its place as we elbow and jockey one
another for position in the cramp quarters.
Finally settled in, we wait for day time’s
return and an accommodating turkey to show up within range of our arrows…We’re
shoe horned in the blind and I can’t help but wonder where the time has went.
Just a couple years ago, we had room to spare in our hiding spot, I thought to
myself as I happen to glance down at the kid’s Frankenstein sized 14 boot
dwarfing my size 9’s…I still have a difficult time remembering that there’s not
much “kid” left in the 6 feet of lanky teen to my right…where has the time
went?
The woods are waking up as the sun at our
back creeps its way across the open field in front of us…eating away inch by
inch, minute by minute the grayness of dawn. The boy spots a doe coming across
the field 200 yards straight away, heading right to us…She puts on the skids at
50 yards, head bobbing trying to figure out what we are and why we’re
here…She’s safe for now and continues on her way, followed in short order by
two others heading for their bedrooms after night of dining. Songbirds fill the
air along with the ever present noise of crows…A gang of four of the black
birds making non-stop racket. A redtail glides over and is immediately bullied
by the leader of the pack…I’ve never understood why a bird as strong and graceful
as a hawk puts up with a crow…one grab by the hawk’s talon would be instant
death. As I watch the dive bombing, aerial dog fight, I’m quietly rooting for
the crow’s demise…
Blue jays, woodpeckers and nuthatches talk
back and forth…But my son and I quiet for the most part, listening for another
bird. A yelp, a “cut”, a purr…hopefully a gobble? Two hours into our vigil and
nothing heard. No turkeys to be found…The hunt will be over soon as I have to
be responsible and get the boy to school…I think to myself that I probably
should’ve made him go on time, but tomorrows aren’t guaranteed and the way I
see it, we only get to be part of so many sunrises and I’m determined to share
as many of them with my kids as possible, so any guilt at missing a period or
two of studies is quickly washed away…Besides, some things learned aren’t
taught in the classroom.
“What
time is it Dad?” he whispers… “15 more minutes Bud, then we’ll have to go” I
reply, wishing it was hours…We manage to hear a distant yelp from a hen and
call to her, but she’s not interested in our attempt to talk and we finally concede
it’s time to go…Not much conversation was had, but we didn’t need to speak…In the
stillness of the morning, in the coolness of the air, lost in our own thoughts,
in our facial expressions, we spoke volumes…we didn’t need words.
The turkeys might have won this round, but
my success this morning wasn’t decided by an arrow launched or measured by the
length of Tom’s beard or the hook of his spurs…
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