The kill is the satisfying, indeed essential, conclusion to a successful hunt. But, I take no pleasure in the act itself. One does not hunt in order to kill, but kills in order to have hunted. Then why do I hunt? I hunt for the same reason my well-fed cat hunts...because I must, because it is in the blood, because I am the decendent of a thousand generations of hunters. I hunt because I am a hunter.- Finn Aagard
"And so again I am sternly reminded that the key to consistent hunting success - the key that I misplaced that last emotional evening- is to keep in mind, always, why it is we hunt, and adjust our expectations accordingly. If my motivation for hunting is narrowed to just killing more and/or bigger animals each year, then - in addition to trading honor for ego gratification, love for lust, the slow subtle pleasures of foreplay for the quick finalty of climax - I'm setting myself up for a lot of hard falls.
If, on the other hand, the real reason I'm out there is to relax, work hard, listen, learn, and overall to enjoy myself as deeply and broadly as possible - quietly rejoicing in the sights, sounds, scents, and solitude of wild nature - then I'm virtually guaranteed of success. Year after joyful year."
Another summer has passed away, another field has gone to hay.
It's close to season, another reason, for making Woodies.
The broadheads filed, the shavings piled, the nuts are falling....the squirrels are wild;
No need to reason....tis' just the season, for making Woodies.
When you have got the fever, there's nothing that works as good;
As gathering nocks and fletching, and working with shafts of wood....
So go ahead, and set the clamp; you need some Scotchgard...in case it's damp.
No need to reason, we need no season, for making Woodies.
" The Deer Hunter's Prayer "
by Dale Sunderlin
Heavenly father, to you I pray,
A majestic deer may come my way.
Let my aim be straight and true,
this my Lord, I pray to you.
A swift clean kill is what I ask,
Take his spirit swift and fast.
For his last breath should not be,
One of pain or agony.
Let his soul,
Come to Thee,
To roam your heavens,
Wild and free.