After I hung my stand in the oaks last night I just sat there looking around. The decaying leaves are beginning to perfume the woods. The birds seem to have a urgency to their movements like an impending winter is just around the corner. The fresh buck rub signals the time that I live for. The air is crisp, the breeze gives me a shudder. Each step through the woods on the way home brings back another memory from hunts past. My first bowkill when I was on my first date with my future wife! The feel of my recurve in my hand. My now deceased brother who taught me about the outdoors. I walk past the spot where my largest buck fell and can smell that musky odor and feel the pure rush of elation all over again. Thank you God for allowing me the ability to be out here.
Topic: It's All in the woods (Read 304 times)
