The bumper-sticker on the back of a neighbor's ol' rusty pick-up truck up the road says, "Vegetarian: old Indian word for poor hunter." I felt like a poor hunter at times this past week during gun season in Ohio. No venison in the freezer so far this year. After all the planning and trail camera snapshots of does and bucks striking a pose... I didn't see anything close enough to shoot this past week. Fortunately, there's some additional hunting season left in December, so we'll see what comes of it.
Truthfully, most of what I love about hunting is the solitude and sanctuary out and about in God's green earth. Sometimes I hunt with a friend or buddy... but often I hunt alone where it's just me and the good Lord to chat about life and things. I really love the sensations found in the field and woods. The brisk, cold air where you can see your breath as you walk into the field or woods... Listening to the crunching and crackling of leaves beneath your boots... Feeling the weight of your chosen boom-stick slung over your shoulder... the clean, fresh smell of the fall air filling your lungs.
Whether it's the ground blind, a tree stand, or the deer stand... I love climbing into position... getting my equipment in place and my body adjusted... and settling in to watch and wait. Listening... watching... feeling the cold on my face...relaxing my legs... finding that perfect equilibrium of a restful, yet ready perch... and then my mind relaxes... my senses heighten... I hear things I miss in daily life... a shot off in the distance as another hunter takes a deer... the creaking and occasional crack of the trees and branches as the wind blows through the woods... a dog offering occasional barking far off in the distance.
I watch... wait... listen... and begin my musings...
My daughter is in her last year of high school... she's more than I ever could have imagined... bright, smart, beautiful, hard-working, compassionate... thank you God... but damn you time for passing so quickly.
Greg Ellifritz and James Wesley, Rawles have two of the best blogs and any prepper and/or person interested in self-defense and survival should read every post published.
It's going on a year and a half now and I keep thinking of things I should have asked my dad when I still had the chance.
I need to clean the Ruger SR-556.
The doctors better be right about that mass being a cyst... my wife is my main gal, my life, my best friend, my world... I don't show her that enough and I'd be lost without her.
I'm blessed with good friends around here... the kind that would drop and run if you needed them too.
Farming is something I miss... tillage methods have changed, but I used to love the smell of fresh, turned dirt pulling a six-bottom plow through the field... the rumbling of a diesel engine pulling hard... I could cut a pretty straight dead-furrow back in the day.
The university's finances are awfully tight and I'm a non-tenure track faculty in a small program... I need to polish-up the resume... I love teaching... but I also love working with my hands... am I too old to go back to diesel mechanic work?
What changed the deer patterns... does and bucks every night and morning on the trail cams right up until almost Thanksgiving... then nothing. Is it the coyotes? Is the rut just over?
How the heck did this country get in such a mess? "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." ~Proverbs 3:5
Why do we like watching the steam from our breath?
Someday, I hope my main gal and I can just spend an evening chatting with Brigid, her words always eloquent and affirm much my own thinking. Her cooking and recipes make it rough for a dieting fool like me.
I have to get the loader on the tractor before it snows... and put up those marker stakes along the drive.
Where are the deer?
Well I've been lookin' real hard and I'm tryin' to find a job... but it just keeps gettin' tougher every day... but I got to do my part cause I know in my heart I got to please my sweet baby, yeah... well, I ain't superstitious and I don't get suspicious... but my woman is a friend of mine... and I know that it's true that all the things that I do... will come back to me in my sweet time... so keep on rockin' me baby... keep on a rockin' me baby... keep on a rockin' me baby... keep on a rockin' me baby.
Frog Lube is awesome in cold weather... thanks for the heads-up on that, Matt... I still love the smell of Hoppe's No. 9.
It's dark... no deer again... I guess... for today... at least... that ends... The Musings of a Vegetarian Deer Hunter...