Tis the Season...

     The air feels of football and flannel shirts, bonfires and fleece…My favorite time of the year is just around the corner and you can bet I’ll be perched high above some well worn deer trail waiting on an unsuspecting buck to pass my way…

    

     My mind will wonder to hunts from the past and my thoughts will drift to the future. I’ll soak in the sun of an Indian summer and enjoy the first frost. I’ll solve the world’s problems and maybe a few of my own out there in the trees. I’ll re-live the excitement of my first buck and the thrill at launching my first arrow. I’ll feel the warmth of the wood handle of my recurve and see how the oils from my skin have polished it to a shine. I’ll pretend I’m 16 again and my imagination will take me to far off places and exotic hunts. In my mind I see moose, caribou, elk and more…

     I’ll feel the cool breeze on my cheek and watch the musk rat fur silencers on my bowstring dance in the wind. I’ll get to watch as the chipmunks and squirrels gather their seeds and nuts for the upcoming winter and not a moment waste. I’ll listen to the songbirds and the crows as they sing and call out to one another.

 I’ll hear the eerie cry of a barred owl in the fading evening light. I’ll see the stars and moon of the predawn morning and feel the pitch black and shake off a shiver as I can see my breath…

     I’ll hear the footfalls of a doe as she delicately picks her way along the trail with a yearling in tow. I’ll watch as a redtail hawk swoops in and makes dinner out of a field mouse and witness coyotes as they slink along on the prowl, ever vigilant for a meal. I’ll see a red fox make his pounce, looking more like a cat than a canine…

     I’ll get to see the woods put on her finest hue and color of autumn…oranges, golds and yellows of every shade. I’ll listen to the leaves as they rain down onto the forest floor. The acorns will drop and the hickories and hedge apples will fall with a thump as they roll down the hollers…

     I’ll feel the adrenalin rush at the sight of a mature, old buck and feel my heart race and palms sweat. My throat dry and coarse. I’ll feel humble and proud and grateful at the moment of truth. I’ll make my own meat and bloody my hands and feel gratitude and remorse for the animal that provided me.

     But, most of all, I’ll add to “me” and my memories. I’ll spend time with my children and with friends. I’ll experience the real world, nature as it was intended to be. This is why I hunt, this is my deer season…