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.