I am an adult novice hunter.
That sounds a bit strange, but I have not had a long gun in my hands since I was 15.
My dad passed away then and all of that kind of thing went away.
I've been going to deer camp for several years now.
Going with someone.
Sitting in a stand with someone.
Taking my camera.
Enjoying the peace that comes from spending time in nature.
(all kids need to do this --- I repeat ALL kids need serious time away from electronics and indoor stuff)
A conversation last fall started a series of events that found me, in the pre-sunrise hours on Saturday morning, putting on camo/safety orange and climbing on a four wheeler to drive myself to my own stand in the woods. I've a new gun slung across my chest. A pistol at my side. A backpack with water, camera, flashlight, extra ammo, a notepad and my crochet project.
I do not consider myself a hunter. It is still about photography for me. But this property also is home to feral hogs, coyote, and you never know, maybe a trophy buck. Crusty Old Guy insisted that if I am going to the woods by myself, I need to be armed. So the process proceeded.
And here I find me.
Sunrise in the woods.
I find my stand.
Climb,
Get situated.
And I sit.
LISTENING.
The woods are peaceful in this time.
There are sounds of the critters beginning to stir.
I barely see a rabbit scurry out of the open plot.
Then my newest friend shows up.
Go here to hear what I listened to for a solid three hours.
A woodpecker - I never saw him, but he/she was sure hammering on the trees.
That was it.
My phone died for reasons unknown.
There were moments when it was SO STILL that I could hear my hook pulling through the yarn.
But in those still, even noisy moments, I was able to THINK.
I did not see another critter.
Thinking about everything, and nothing.
About the man who had given me this gift.
The gift of recognizing beauty in nature.
My Daddy.
How the accident that took him from me had changed everything.
About the Crusty Old Guy, giving me a new version of this gift, by allowing me to work into this position this morning. Slowly. I have inconvenienced him all this time by going with him and there are locations that two people cannot comfortably or practically go.
I find myself pondering my health -----
I find myself pondering my path ------
I crochet and I have these conversations in my mind.
I have nothing to kill but time.
My phone is dead. I have no idea what time it is. But I stay three washcloths and a coaster for the morning hunt.
On the way back to the campers, I see those flowers above and I think of my Nanny - she called them "frost flowers" because they bloom just before the first frost of the season.
Although I have been by the tree below hundreds of time, I never noticed that the "cross" branch is not the same species and yet it goes through the tree. This is the kind of natural occurrence that I find fascinating
An afternoon of busy.
No nap this day.
Decisions about hunting locations are discussed.
I can choose any one of a number of places.
But I decide to go back to the same one.
Again - me - my stuff - my crochet - my thoughts.
Some of them are very personal. Some are just absolutely fun. Some are very much worthy of sharing.
I feel a bit lost right now.
My health is an issue.
I am uncomfortable with joint inflammation a lot.
The thyroid issue seems to be at the root of my weight problem.
I am not sleeping well.
I feel anxiety building in me. That is an unfamiliar feeling.
I go with it and see where it leads me.
When I find it leading to a seriously negative place, I make a deliberate decision to back off.
"for I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Isaiah 41:13
This verse follows one of the more familiar verses (Isaiah 41:10), but I find the 13th one to be the one I recite to myself often. I like the image of God holding my hand.
Just as I am holding this prayer meeting over myself, this little guy steps into the food plot.
What?
Unicorns do exist.
This guy is in no danger from me. I reach for my camera, not my gun.
And I proceed to be aware of my breathing, my heartbeat, my every motion, in order not to startle him away.
I want to watch him as long as possible.
He ambles.
Grazes.
There is such peace watching him.
He scratches, flicks that tail with the "all is well" motion.
Yes buddy, all is well.
I can't decide if he has broken that second antler off or if it hasn't developed.
It doesn't seem that he is injured at all.
But in those moments, I am fully aware that being here is the best "self care" I can give myself.
I find myself again lifting gratitude for this encounter.
For 40 MINUTES, he ambles and grazes.
40 BEAUTIFUL minutes.
He had a squirrel friend join him and that was fun to watch as well.
Running - gathering - chittering.
I'm telling this as a chronological story.
It was a beautiful moment for me.
The profound part of the story was not really seeing this guy.
The profound part was realizing just how much my life has changed since I did not die in 2010 from renal cell carcinoma.
I also realized that, no matter what the outcome of this next health challenge is, I will be surrounded by beauty and by beautiful people.
God is good - so good.
I have been allowed to experience this guy up close. He literally walked straight to the stand. I looked down from the window and could have easily been able to spit on him.
Such a beautiful moment.
All photos are mine.
I am creating a "tales from the woods" tag for tracking these stories.
Hopefully there will be more fun stuff under this heading.
Life is crazy beautiful.
