Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Fog in the air,
the moon was bright and bold.
The air is somewhat chilly,
but still nowhere near cold.

It's almost that time of year when all the acorns start to dropping,
persimmons start turning purple, ol' buck deer, they start to stalking..

The turkey start to talking...
you know the time when all them hound dogs and fox squirrels start to barking,
spreading out and scattering all that creep and crawl
big bucks rubbing trees, making scrapes, horns a rattling..
when all the leaves change colors, campfires, and football

The time of year when sinks are piled with dishes, because you're too busy hunting and fishin',
the life that country folks are livin', and the dream city folks are only wishin'...

getting up at dark thirty,
you got to get there early even though it's still too dark to see..
the time's you forgot to set the alarm or over slept because you thought, man it's way too early..

Dragging your self out of bed after spending all that time prepping and planning, sitting and waiting, disking and planting.

All the hours spent searching and scoping, limb trimming and hoping ... that you found the perfect spot and don't end up too close, or too far the feel of defeat and fear of never knowing...

The long hours spent sitting in the stand, stomach growling... knees hurting... from sitting in one spot for so long till you can't take it no more, thinking them city folks might be doing it right, sleeping in...

untill the twigs break... the limbs start bending.... movement coming through the woods...... the breath coming from his nostrils ..... the antlers looking like a crown that God bestowed upon this beautiful creature....
the silence.....
the adrenaline...
the fear....

the shot.....

the kill....

makes every ache and pain, exhaustion go away when pumped with adrenaline when it all paid off....
the long nights of no sleep and all you put in was finally worth it....

Now the tracking... hope ya find it , trailing blood.. comes to an end..
the feeling of joy of what you accomplished, then that awkward moment of knowing
...
now the work begins..