Happy Thanksgiving

I have a lot to be grateful for this year. I spent more time on the water than ever. I became friends with the waxwings. I  felt blessed by every trout I caught. I was invigorated with every watched sunrise and reflected at more sunsets. I learned that I had been my neglecting the need for my heart to break from the hustle and bustle to hear nature's whisper. To find peace.

It can be hard to convince others of the intrinsic value of the time spent communing with nature. It's about conquering this mountain, bagging a trophy, or even an exercise. We break near perfection to fulfill our selfish needs. Too much time viewing the earth as something that must be conquered. I hope we as a species can learn to express our gratitude for the earth that bares and sustains us.

Happy Deer Season

Be safe out there!

A little better

It was a rough week. A lot of changes in the country, my community, and in my life. It was one of those weeks where getting up and going through the motions seemed to be the only thing that kept me from unraveling. Thank God, I was planning on going up north.

Two  beautiful mornings of duck hunting, without a duck bagged. I shivered in my waders as we threw decoys into the gray chop; my bare hands stiffening with each dunk into the murky water. A drive to scout around confirmed our suspicions that minimal ducks were present.

Pleasant weather brought about thoughts of global warming, changes in migration patterns and the realization that we'll be celebrating yet another deer season without snow.

I hiked and scouted and hunted for grouse. I was graced with one and missed  a few more. Chasing grouse through the woods, I was reminded of a more carefree version of myself, 20 years younger. For a while my other worries seemed distant. I smelled leaves, listened for the flutter of wings, and studied the forest for movement, all the while clenching the worn wooden stock of my shotgun. Distracted from my fears, little else mattered and I was happy.

With the moon rising over the lake, I finally  sat down. Ice cold Leinie's is the the taste is want after a long day I'd hunting. I sat out on the porch on my jacket and studied my grouse gratefully. The meat will make a delicious supper, the feathers will become flies, anything I can't use returned to the earth. My mind drifted back to troubles, but this time a little better.

A friend in the sky

It is four in the morning and I'm driving north towards a preferred patch of marsh. I always look forward to seeing Orion, the hunter, in the sky. Is it a coincidence that we are greeted by Orion during hunting season? I don't know, but I like it. The familiar picture in the sky helps me stay oriented while pounding through the brush, under or over caffeinated, with a dull headlamp made more useless by creeping fog, the mesh bag of decoys clinging to the buck-thorn, while my feet seem to find every mud puddle, causing me to trip and second-guess this route. Stars fade as I throw out the decoys. The walk back will be easier.