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Good
morning !
(a reflection)
The Answer
While hunting this week I observed:
Black Caped Chickadee (usually arrive with the first rays of sun
in groups of about 5), Grey Jay (looks like a Chickadee on
steroids), Red Squirrel, Crow (sometimes loud and sometimes
muttering under their breath), Black fly, Beaver, Japanese
beetle, Blue Jay, Grey Squirrel (harvesting pinecones from a 50
foot tree), 8-point buck, pure white ermine (obviously anxious
for snow soon), 5 Trumpeter swans (They flew over casting a
shadow that made me look up. There was a single Canadian goose
flying with them. The goose looked the size of a duck in
comparison.), Weasel (they do not go "pop!"), Nuthatch, Downy
woodpecker, Snowshoe rabbit (in the awkward process of changing
white), Mosquitoes (the second week of November in northern
Minnesota no kidding!), Red-headed woodpecker, a nameless bird
that sounds like a dripping faucet, Ruffed Grouse, Snow Geese,
Gnats, Spiders, and Porcupine.
I
kept company with brothers, cousins, nephews, the spirits of my
father and grandfather; all friends and party members. I
anticipate the return of my sons to the party as their schooling
concludes.
At
camp I tasted Mom’s pies (she always sends them along for “her
boys”), camp stew, and venison. The only Span I had to deal
with for the week was fried and hidden under the fried eggs,
High-bush cranberries, chocolate bars, apples, well-worn
sandwiches and cookie crumbles in the woods.
I
felt the lash of tamarack across my face when I followed another
of my party too closely, the rough bark of a red pine, the
smoothness of deer-hide mittens, the nip in the air, and the
good exhaustion after a long day in the woods.
I
smelled camp coffee, deer scent, Jeep exhaust, gunpowder and
fresh pine boughs.
I
heard the sound of a wind blowing so hard that it took the top
off of a nearby dead tree.
I
heard the woods so quiet that I could hear my own heart beat.
I
heard a rooster crow as the sun hit a farm ½ mile over the west
side of the ridge 3 hours after revelee.
I
saw the northern lights in a sky otherwise filled with stars (I
especially appreciated Orion-The Hunter, and Ursus Major-the
bear).
The morning frost made a hayfield appear to be covered with
diamond dust.
I
saw first light kiss the tree-tops at sunrise while 16 feet up a
tree.
I
watched the shadow of the horizon climb a 90-foot Red pine as
the sun set.
I
know that planets don’t twinkle but outshine all of the stars.
I
know that Timber wolves mark their territory in a peculiar way
I
know that beavers make the sound of a 5 lb rock tossed into deep
water when startled (not a mere slap)
I
know I love the woods.
This
is just part of the answer to the question: Why do I
hunt?
Steve
ps. Best answer this week to
the question "How are you?" was "Fair to middlin'!"
(clerk at the coutry store near the cabin)
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