A read about nothing, but its something
01-30-2013 | 11:48 AM
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Nontypical Buck
Joined: Feb 2007
Posts: 1,109
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From: Nashville, Ohio
A read about nothing, but its something
Its funny the things that stir a man.
As i sit here the 30th of January 2013, its 56 degrees out, with not a tag to my name. Shouldn't i be happy? I think to myself. I dream of the up coming season and all that goes with. The almosts and nearlies, the embarrassment and joy. The sleepless nights and hours on vigil to catch a glimpse of the one you may never see again, but then again.... The smiles and stories, and time with friends. The time spent tracking and with luck the time spent dragging, and in the darkness your mind starts lagging, tired, but happy. The eastern sky gets grey as the corn leaves rattle, air so cold your nose hairs freeze with every passing breath, you strain to hear deer move over the sounds of birds and squirrels.
Its funny the things that stir a man.
To see your fletches dissapear between ribs. Hear the hollow sound of a well placed shaft finding its destination. The feeling of the weight of the world being lifted off your chest, and in that moment nothing else matters. The calls and texts and pictures sent. The moment you take to admire the animal that you so greatly love, and love to hunt. The smell of blood fills your nostrils as your hands tingle in the heat and then freeze in the breeze. The job is done but the chore is not. The sweat begins to drip as your hat gets pulled off, exhaustion sets in as help shows up. The south eastern Ohio hills never get any shorter as you get older. The smell of inside loins on the grill at camp mixes with the aroma of good bourbon whiskey and the laughter of jovial hunters pierces the dark.
Its funny the things that stir a man.
As i sit here the 30th of January 2013, its 56 degrees out, with not a tag to my name. Shouldn't i be happy? I think to myself. I dream of the up coming season and all that goes with. The almosts and nearlies, the embarrassment and joy. The sleepless nights and hours on vigil to catch a glimpse of the one you may never see again, but then again.... The smiles and stories, and time with friends. The time spent tracking and with luck the time spent dragging, and in the darkness your mind starts lagging, tired, but happy. The eastern sky gets grey as the corn leaves rattle, air so cold your nose hairs freeze with every passing breath, you strain to hear deer move over the sounds of birds and squirrels.
Its funny the things that stir a man.
To see your fletches dissapear between ribs. Hear the hollow sound of a well placed shaft finding its destination. The feeling of the weight of the world being lifted off your chest, and in that moment nothing else matters. The calls and texts and pictures sent. The moment you take to admire the animal that you so greatly love, and love to hunt. The smell of blood fills your nostrils as your hands tingle in the heat and then freeze in the breeze. The job is done but the chore is not. The sweat begins to drip as your hat gets pulled off, exhaustion sets in as help shows up. The south eastern Ohio hills never get any shorter as you get older. The smell of inside loins on the grill at camp mixes with the aroma of good bourbon whiskey and the laughter of jovial hunters pierces the dark.
Its funny the things that stir a man.
