Coming & Going

[longbowman]

I just don't feel that old.  I told myself that after walking the mile into my property last week.  Yet, there I was setting on a large stump left by the mill people who timbered my property a year ago.  I close my eyes and I could see the huge oak and maple trunks that once covered this hill side and for as long as I rememberd I was able to see more than a hundred yards.
     Now, all I could see were the small trees that were strtigically left behind to mature and the forrest floor a jungle of briars and treetops.
     I imagine the trees didn't feel that old either when the saws came and cut them down but now all that's left is the progeny they left behind.
     My own son, now 33, has turned into a true bowhunter and modern day mountain man.  He makes his own primitive arrows and points that he shoots perfectly off his 93# longbow.  He makes fire with sticks and can survive in any kind of terrain or weather.  Now he's teaching his kids to do the same.
     Maybe that's how it's all supposed to be.  Grow in your traditions, pass them along and then, like my giant oaks, move over so the next generation can come in.  
     Suddenly the sight of huge velvet covered antlers getting up out of their bed in this new briar patch makes me realize that it's OK to move on.  That's how nature intended for the trees and me.
     I have some good years left in me to watch my son and grandkids grow before I need to go, Lord willing, and like the new bedding area the old trees left behind I'm going to leave a legacy too.

[Gordon Jabben]

I enjoyed this very much.  Made me think of the flight of the arrow by Saxton Pope:
The flight of an arrow is symbolic of life itself.  It springs from the bow with high aim, flies toward the blue heaven above, and seems to have immortal power.  The song of its life is sweet to the ear.  The rush of its upward arc is a promise of perpetual progress.  With perfect grace it sweeps onward, though less aspiring.  Then fluttering imperceptibly, it points downward and with ever-increasing speed, approaches the earth, where, with a deep sigh, it sinks in the soil, quivers with spent energy, and capitulates to the inevitable.

[rluttrell]

I have to say I enjoyed reading your story. I fully understand what you were saying.
Thank you for sharing

[awbowman]

Thanks for sharing.  

The end of life doesn't have to be bad, it can be a reward worth gaining.  I'm not preaching, I think we live so we can live again in our REAL home in heaven.

[Killdeer]

Thank you, Frank, for your thoughtful words. My other favorite sign-off line is a quote from Heraclitus.

"It ever was, and is, and shall be, ever living fire, in measures being kindled, and in measures going out."

If I ever write a book, it will be called The Fire Eaters, because that is what we are. The land, the trees, our families, water, days and stars all are bound in that Heraclitean flux, so incredibly huge and unrelenting, because it is the will of that Mystery which put it in motion.

Skan, taku skanskan.
Killdeer

[woodchucker]

Well said, My Friend!!! Thank You!!!!!

I taught my boys to shoot... Now the oldest one is in college,and bowhunting has been replaced by "Beer & Girls"... Actualy,one particular girl (and she's a real sweety) Someday, I will have grandkids... I still have the little bows the boys started with.

For now, My youngest son has grown into his brother's old Grizzly.

It's all set up to hunt,with a Selway bowquiver and arrows just like mine...

Hopefully, I too will leave a legacy... Thanks for sharing!!!!!