On Opening Day


There were precious few shots to be heard here today. The usual chorus of booms, silenced by the scarcity of the deer. Thirteen-thousand died here this summer of EHD, an insect-spread disease intensified by the year’s drought. I saw just two does shortly before dusk.

In The Blind

The little one made herself an easy target, meandering back and forth through my main shooting lane, paying little attention to her older companion’s curiosity as I slid the front window open on the blind and pushed the end of the barrel out. If I didn’t know better I’d think they understand more about this season than we might otherwise imagine. Staying about 50 yards out and peering around at me from behind a tree, the bigger doe never stepped foot into that lane. She was a beauty, too. Maybe tomorrow.

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