Son on opening day bagged buck and doe
Growing up a country kid in the north means hunting and fishing is common. A proud heritage is passed on from grandfather to father, father to son and in my case you can throw in mother and father and daughter too. Because heading to the woods on opening day is not just for the men and the boys anymore in our family. We changed that a bit.
I have vivid memories of hanging back wondering about hunting but knowing it was not something open to me. Now though, it is and I love it!!
Being there early on opening morning as the sun begins to filter in through the tree tops in my Daddy’s woods holding his 16 gauge double barrel shotgun across my knees. I sat back to back with my hubby and watched and listened in fascination. My thought drifted back to my grandfather who shook his head sadly and said to the little girl that was me then,”I went hunting until one day. I looked at that deer and I just couldn’t shoot it. So I walked away and and I never went again.” Then they jumped to my Dad beaming with his pockets full of squirrels he had harvested on this same 20 acres where I sat back to back with my hubby. Again my thoughts moved to my surroundings and I watched the squirrels run along a beech limb high above my head and step off onto a neighboring branch tip with no hesitation. Impossible!! I thought as I watched. The branch was too small at the end and the next one too was too small to support the squirrel. But it was on and swooping along being chased by another squirrel with not a mistep or flaw in the pursuit of merriment or meal. I couldn’t tell what was being pursued.
Breath came in my lungs and out my mouth and I talked and listened to God as we whispered back and forth about getting meat for our table and horns for my young son’s trophy corner too. Was it too much to ask for? Well I was asking regardless. Bang! I heard it close enough to be pretty certain it was from his gun in the tree- stand nearby. Then silence. I talked on to God about my reasonings and thankfulness and requests…… A crack farther away. Then hubby began to talk to me about his imaginings in a hoarse male whisper,”he’s gotten down from the tree stand and he stalked the deer. That was why the shot was farther off….” I whispered back,”Naw, I don’t think so and laughed quietly.”
Chicadee dee dee dee dee chirruped an acrobatic bird nearby. I smiled at his naming himself and didn’t give in to the urge to call back. If it weren’t opening day in my Daddy’s woods with his gun in my lap I would have. And I smiled again. The shapes of the trees took my attention and I considered the twists and turns of the beeches and the knobs of disease in one small maple or beech, squinting to consider which it is. The Hemlocks soared above and darkened the woods a little ways off. My favorite pine!!! The silly feathery branches I love so . The logger had said they were wind whipped? No shocked? The lumber is no good. But the squirrels don’t mind.
Daddy didn’t hunt deer either. He said,”I’ll be damned if I could shoot one of those gorgeous creatures.” but he would jump at the chance to eat venison especially after I married a hunter and learned how, as he would say,” by hook and by crook,” to cook it into tasty meals.
My thoughts turned to rearing the six offspring and the goal I had of teaching them to raise and butcher and process chickens, ducks, turkeys sometimes pigs and fish and scale, and clean out the fish and hunt for wild mushrooms and raise a garden, can and freeze and dry and make jelly. Leading to fall when it was time to hunt with their Dad carrying his bow with a small child along who would be tucked into place nearby as he hunted. Then to deer season with a gun and more tagging along with Dad until the little child got big enough to carry his own gun and the girls voted to stay out of the woods. The goal was to learn that,” Yes! It is sad to have the animal and even the plant or weeds you have to pull out of your way when you garden, die so you can live. Nobody likes that or should like that and of course, that’s why I, Mama, have a frown and a headache on butchering day. But we thank God for the animal and plant life given for us. Even when we make maple syrup we thank Him for the tree giving up part of it’s sap for us.”
Gratitude is an important quality. Humility too is bred this way. Gathering, hunting, farming give more than they take from you in this way. It’s a hard life but a good life. ….. Cutting your own firewood from this very woods and now…. Bang! close by. Could it be??
We sat and waited and watched the woods. The wind swirled around us. Hail and sleet, rain and snow fell and melted. Hubby whispered, “I can’t see waiting till 10:30.” and then, “I’m not sure I can wait till 10.” I smiled and answered. “Well lets go then and see what’s what.”
Walking out of the blind. He didn’t quite run to the tree stand. He whistled and our son came skittering out of the tree and ran to the buck on the ground smiling and telling his story of praying as he aimed the gun and asking God to give him this deer if God wanted him to have it. Then turning to see the other one, almost immediately, on the other side of the stand. A doe who was big and alone. Aiming again and asking God to give him this deer if He wanted him to have it. Thanking God when the gun would not fire on a third deer knowing that two were enough.
Wow!!! He learned a lesson and used the wisdom. He knew that the woods and the animals in it don’t really belong to us at all. Humility, patience, knowledge and relationship. And I said,”I’m proud of you. You know your grandfather would be proud of you. Both your grandfathers would have been. ” What a great day. I really want to get a picture of this. Let’s go get the trailer and then we can take a picture. God is generous with us today!!”
And his Papa directed him through dressing the deer out right there in the woods. Approving of the clean shot into the heart and noting these animals died right away and didn’t suffer much.” This is a lot of meat and I am really proud of you!” to the beaming son straining to start the process of butchering out his game.
Son and Papa on opening day when son bagged a buck and doe.
wouldn'tyaknowit 