Another season was upon him the hunter thought, dourly sitting in his treestand. Affixing the climbing sticks that allowed him to scale the tree hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d remembered. Staying in shape was a great source of pride, but he had to admit he was getting older. The work of loading the truck and driving three-and-a-half hours to deer camp was still fresh in his mind. As was the desire to launch a few blunts at the drivers who couldn’t merge or drive more than thirty-five miles-per-hour in a fifty mile-per-hour zone.
Time went at a different pace than before. The year had nearly flown by. He’d thought that the hustle and bustle of a military life would slow down once he retired, but it seemed to pass even faster now. Only just yesterday it was January and he was in the Texas sun hunting javelina amongst the saw palmetto and prickly pear. He’d just returned from an August pronghorn trip on the sagebrush covered prairies of Montana. He asked himself why he was here in the chilly pre-dawn darkness when he could be home in bed with wife and dog. It was a recurring question he’d never been able to answer. He remembered reading the words of an older, wiser hunter who once said, “Mornings are for snuggling and loving.”
The sun eventually broke over the tree tops to warm his bones and lighten his mood. Then off to the left he saw tans and grays ghosting in the lush green. His heart pace quickened as a doe and two fawns made their way into the clearing. Completely unaware of his presence, even at a close eight yards, they sniffed, ate and scratched. He picked imaginary aiming spots for practice and almost burst out laughing as the doe sucked up a mushroom the size of a softball in three easy bites. She was just eight feet from the tree’s base. For some reason he was always tickled when they contorted themselves to scratch their heads with hind hooves. After awhile the trio wandered off. He later learned that his game camera caught pictures of the visitors at the exact moments he was watching them.
A game camera catches a doe’s visit as the hunter watches.
With the doe came two fawns.
Later that afternoon he climbed into a new tree in a previously scouted, but not hunted, location. Despite a detailed gear list he’d forgotten the limited entry permit for an exciting new area so was relegated to this piece of county forest land. The weather was warm and he was sweating buckets while struggling with a new ambush saddle. Once settled the afternoon sun caught up with him. Cat naps mingled with the incessant chattering of pine squirrels. The most daring of the little red buggers climbed to and cut acorns from atop the tallest oak. He’d never seen one climb so high. The sun went down appearing red at the last. He mused upon these sights and enjoyed his walk from the dark woods even through the rough, swampy terrain.
The following morning he nearly effortlessly and noiselessly used his climbing stand in a new tree. It was just a few feet from another that was considered an old friend. This old friend almost always produced a deer sighting for him. Some near, some far, but some none-the-less. Even a fisher once. A while later his eyes caught movement to the right. What he initially thought to be a larger deer and a fawn turned out to be a bachelor group of four bucks. They trooped along in majestic single file, but never came close despite his attempts at some mild early season antler rattling. Time slowly slipped away.
Barely 28 hours had passed since that first tree climb, but now his heart was warmed. The sun beamed brightly. His step was lifted. Packing up camp and loading the truck didn’t seem such a burden now. During the ride home his thoughts reeled. Which tree would he hunt next? How could he fit in scouting to tweak treestand placement? He had to move his limited entry permit so he wouldn’t forget it next time. All the sour feelings, all the thoughts of hard work were gone. He was happy to be a hunter and hoping the next two weeks would pass with a blur to hurry his return. Yes, it was another season and he was happy for it.
happy hunting, dv
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