it has been raining here for two days with no end in sight and i was getting a bad case of camp fever this morning. decieded i need a nice, cold walk on an old trail by my mothers house that i have walked and hunted a million times in my youth. i grabbed my osage Baker selfow, my quiver and set out. as i started up the trail i went by a little brushy area where i killed my first two grouse, i was 11 and had borrowed my grandfathers single 20 guage. as i walked farther up the trial i was struck by how beautifull the trees glisted with their icy coat. not far along i came to an old decayed stump that had been my target sence i could remember, there is some much lead in that stump you only need to grab a piece off to find the old remains of lead. i grabbed an arrow and proceded to miss just right off it. when i bent down to pick up my arrow i found a nice crow feather whichi gave thanks for and put in my hat band. a little farther up the trail i came to an old oak tree which had long ago stopped yeilding acorns. i killed my first grey squrriel in this tree with my trusty Crossman bb gun, i still have that mounted squrriel at my mothers house. i still remember the blood blister i recieved that day when i got my finger pinched in the pump of the bb gun! i noticed how the woods had aged alot scence i use to hunt three. the tall, full oaks now bent this way or that and a few had fallen, made me somewhat sad. about a few hundered feet from there was a stand of pines where i had taken many a grouse. i quickly switched from sight seeing to predator mode with arrow nocked. i tooked two steps and heard the distinct thunder off a departing grouse, apperntly my predator pwas were not soft enough! it still brought a smile to my face knwing that grouse still roam in my old haunts of youth. not much farther up the trail i started going down hill towards a small lake. it saddend me to see the waste and garabage left by the new genoration that have started to camp there. i picked up the small things that i could to throw out later. as i approched the waters edge i was flooded by memories of old. fishing, hunting, trapping and swimming in this lake had kpet me out of a TON of trouble as a youth. i remember anotter family that i had sat and watched during duck season. they snorted, played and had a grand ole time, it was a privlege to watch! i remember my first pickerel caught and first duck shot on this lake. just a couple years ago a bear had backed me down to the water where 2 guys fishing in a boat had picked me up. it is beautifull here, i could sit all day and watch nothing yet be entertained by everything. as i walked back up the trail for the slow walk home i took a long shot at a beer can hung on a tree, WHACK a soild hit on the vitals! as i continued on the trial home i tried to soak the morning in, it had stpped raining and all was quiet. a sound was not to be heard yet i vocies of the past filled my head. i thought of the many people that had walked here with me that were no longer with us, my Grandfather in particular, he was a great man. a little farther back on the trail i remember where a huse buck had jumped up and ran right in front of myself and a friend, we both missed. as i walked along i looked at my beautifull bow that seemed to glow as water ran down it and gently cleansed it. it was a fine morning. i had saw nothing yet evrything. the times, people and woods may change here but the memories off youth just grow stronger!