I'm not a hunter, but I want to be. The call to the woods is one that I cant shake. There is something in the complicated simplicity of it all that always makes me want more despite all the unsuccessful trips taken into the woods. I've yet to take anything with my bow.
I'm not a hunter, but I want to be. I want to be the guy at the campfire talking about how I've taken my fair share of deer and other game, but I can't abandon hunting with a simple stick and sting that most condemn as archaic and outdated. Those same people don't understand what a real hunt is I don't believe.
I'm not a hunter, but I want to be. I stay on the ground and prefer to have those close encounters that you can only get by being on their level regardless of the small number of times I've had them. Those that I've had are even more meaningful. When I walked right by three doe and started moving slowly past, they popped up and jumped over a few paces on the other side of some bushes wheezing at me. I wheezed back at them for what seemed like 30 minutes, but was more like 5. I could see them through the bushes looking around to see what I was.
I'm not a hunter, but I want to be. Sometimes I flirt with the idea of using all the new gear giving me the same edge that most others use, but as soon as that idea comes I feel the joyful expectation leave with it. Sometimes I wonder what it is I'm thinking standing out with my stick and string with sharp stick. I feel silly as if I don't have the slightest clue, but I move past that and keep slowly moving through the woods, my eyes scanning the woods intently looking for sign of my game, constantly being tricked by my little furry friend the squirrel.
I'm not a hunter, but I want to be. I will continue to hit the woods before the sun rises and stay as long as the old lady will allow. Maybe one day I will be able to send my arrow on its way hitting the mark and taking that first one, finally putting some blood on the bow. Until then, I will move quietly, silently through the woods with eyes open.