Deer Forest

I was finally able to experience deer hunting over these past few weeks. I’ve taken courses on hunter’s safety, read articles, learned about weapons, and have even taken NRA certification courses, but I’ve never had the chance to go on a real hunt.
A friend of mine was able to secure access to a restricted wooded area not too far from our homes that is near a small airport. It has few visitors and is perfect for stalking the elusive four-legged varmint of the woods.

As a former Boy Scout it was great to get back to the outdoors and woods and the feeling you can only get from being connected to the land – God’s land, the densely uncut fertile forest grounds and marsh and fields and tightly woven trails. Suddenly your eyes see seas of green and radiant colors that only show their fancies in this domain.

There will be a few hippie chicks that will toss handfuls of Sierra Club mist in my face and use my chubby cheeks as fodder for their Earth Day cannons for making such a blasphemous comment, but I do believe that earth bonding is uniquely male. We are to subdue the earth and all that is in it; not as mongers and natural rapists but rather as dominant stewards and concerned caretakers. It is in this context that a man comes alive in the forest as he seeks to observe, scout, plan, and conquer.

Rifle in hand. Boots strapped tight. Compass abreast. Eyes wide and ears up, every step is planted and loud and every leaf turn is a chorus. Thick-thicket walls. Chilled ankle deep water. Towering pines. And smoothly orchestrated breezes that bring cool refreshment to the sensory dance.

Two full days, six varmints and no powder residue, but like fishing, the beauty is in the pursuit and we look forward to the steaks. Soon we will dance again.