Type a new keyword(s) and press Enter to search

Midwinter Hunt

 

             As I walk through the forest on a blustery winter's dawn, the leaves that have long since fallen crunch beneath my feet. I do not feel the chill through my Gore-Tex camouflage outfit. Armed with a Winchester .30-06 rifle, I climb up a tree into my stand. "Deer rifles have an attitude that is hard to define, yet unmistakable, like a work of art you know is great even when you don't know the artist" (Carmichel 68). The conditions are perfect for producing a trophy whitetail buck. Dead silence is piercing to the ears. I have become one with nature. Looking across the field I can see a bitter breeze acting as a dance floor for millions of tiny snowflakes.
             Minutes turn to hours and still no sign of life other than my own. In an instant, a small group of does walk into the clearing. I know a buck will soon follow. The pack of deer moves ever so close seeming to be oblivious to my presence. And then, I look up and witness a fairly large deer with a nice spread. From what I can see, the buck is a typical eight-point. The decision is made to let him pass in hopes for a larger specimen.
             Half an hour goes by and I proceed to eat my ham and cheese sandwich. The nourishment fuels the energy I need to complete the hunt. Reaching in my right jacket pocket reveals a can of fresh Copenhagen Long-Cut tobacco. "Smokeless tobacco in the rural south is as common as biscuits and gravy or dirt track racing on a Saturday night"(The Globe). I pack the fine tobacco as if I am a professional. As I take out a pinch and place it in my lip, the silence is halted by a loud and belligerent grunt.
             This is the trophy deer I have been searching for. From the loudness of the aggressive call, I can tell the buck is close. My heart rate skyrockets within an instant. The deer walks to the left of my tree stand and right in plain view. He is apparently ignorant to me at this point. I judge him to be around twenty or twenty-five yards from my stand.


Essays Related to Midwinter Hunt