Thoughts on deer season: Words can’t describe it
Thoughts on deer season: Words can’t describe it
By Tyler Frantz
How does one define the essence of deer hunting?
As a writer, I am constantly tasked with putting feelings, thoughts and emotions to words. The ultimate goal is to bring this simple print on page to life, transforming a story into a living, breathing experience so my readers can relish the subject matter along with me- something I strive to do regularly.
To be honest, outdoor writing is not something I saw myself doing ten years ago. It wasn’t a life goal; it just fell into place, but I’m really glad it did. I am honored to share what I love each week, and it’s easy to become a romantic when musing over the things for which one holds a sincere place in his heart.
Deer season is no different, as nature’s harmony draws us to the fields, forests and backyard woodlots for more than just the game we seek. It is a special time of year to be outside, embracing the elements and enjoying autumn's slow transition toward winter.
Spending an entire day afield is seldom a problem, as every passing hour provides a new and exciting scene. From gray squirrels busily stowing their cache of nuts, to geese embarking upon their southern journey, to all the inevitable chance encounters with Pennsylvania's vast array of wildlife species, each leaves a lasting impression on a day's hunt.
It’s the little things we do to prepare for another season, too, such as tinkering around the garage to organize gear, washing hunting clothes and sharpening our field-dressing knives. It’s firing a few rounds through a favorite rifle at the local range-just to make sure the scope hasn’t been bumped off its mark.
And let’s not forget that leftover holiday turkey sandwich, neatly packed in a paper bag and tucked into the fridge for tomorrow’s mid-day mountain lunch. Final plans are hatched, flashlight batteries are replaced, and alarms are set. The dark of night carries high hopes for the morning’s long walk to the promise land.
Rising before the sun, the realization sets in that another opening day of firearms season is upon us. Schools close and businesses shut down for the day, all because of this reverent tradition we call deer hunting. A smile creases our face, for the time has finally come.
The tradition continues as we quietly hike a steep hillside toward our predetermined post. We clear the leaves beneath a mossy log, settle into our vantage point, and watch the sunrise illuminate the rolling expanse below us.
Warm coffee patiently sipped from a thermos while snow flurries gently tumble down sets the stage for the scurry of whitetail activity surely soon to follow. It invokes a sense of solitude and reflection as the quiet hours pass- but that calm can change in an instant.
Perhaps that’s the most exciting aspect of deer hunting: the ever-present element of anticipation, knowing that at any moment, anything can happen. It’s what keeps us hiking in the dark, weathering the cold, forever scanning the woods. The possibility of a chance encounter is what sparks our fire.
A distant gunshot can pierce the still morning air, sending a clamor of fleeing footsteps in our direction. An unsuspecting wanderer can slowly feed into range, and then there are those ghosts. They just appear with nary a sound, and by some unexplainable sense, we turn our heads and there they are, watching, waiting for us to make our next move.
The lucky and skilled go home heavier than they arrived- hands bloodied, backs weary, but hearts full of pride- knowing their quest for prime venison has been accomplished. Those less-fortunate souls must return to try again another day- though we all know more hunting is never a bad thing, so we press on.
At the end of the day, successful or not, every hunter collects a handful of memories to be shared with friends and loved ones, or perhaps intimately kept to him or herself only to be drummed up again in seclusion on an old familiar ridge.
I suppose therein lies the truest essence of deer season: the memories we make are ours to treasure as we see fit, and this season sure has a knack for making them.
Though I strive to accurately put feelings to words, deer hunting is better experienced than described. Those yearning for the spark will be out there with me- hiking that hillside, feeling that brush of cold air, scanning the woods and hoping for footsteps. Is that the flicker of a tail I see?
Now that’s a living, breathing experience.
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