This is what it' s all about & why I go back year after year:

Opening Day

As the blackness gives way to grays I can make out the silhouette of a large white oak tree directly in front of me. I' ve been listening to what sounds like rain for a half hour now. The sound is, in fact, an abundant acorn crop; a welcomed distraction after last year' s drought stricken season. I watch a busy squirrel scurry down the tree and begin gathering the plentiful wealth of winter meals lying about the forest floor. Slowly, the grays yield to yellows, oranges, & reds & I have become the centerpiece of a tapestry only God could paint. The air is crisp & clean & somehow therapeutic, as the worries of the previous week now seem less significant. I' ve waited eight long months for this morning; for this reunion. Suddenly, I hear rustling in the distant leaves. My heart races & my eyes light up. Is it a deer? Is it a buck? As the noise comes closer, my heart pounds harder to the point of bursting out of my chest. I tell myself to calm down, to take deep breaths... but it' s no use, the moment has embraced me as if to say " welcome home." This is Opening Day