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The Eve

*Could be my final post for a week or so, depending on how deer season plays out*

It’s the night before opening day of rifle season for deer. Today is much akin to Christmas Eve to a young child. I’ll go to bed tonight, struggle to get anything resembling sleep, and dream about the potential prize the deer gods may put in front of my stand tomorrow.

I have what I think is a solid game plan in the morning. I’ll be sitting in a manmade (by me) ground blind over an active scrape line. Although most of the bucks I captured on my cameras were during the night, I think I might be able to play the weather to my advantage. The forecast is calling for a decent amount of rain until daybreak or so, with another front scheduled to swing by at midday, giving me a six hour window for the deer to potentially come by to freshen up the scrapes or visit the acorn stands over where my dad will be sitting.

Speaking of Dad, he’ll be about 150 yards over my left shoulder. We’ll check in on the radios every couple of hours. It’s nice to break up the monotony of a long sit by finding out if he’s had any luck seeing deer. In fact, since we started using radios, I find the day flies by. The first few days we park it in our spots from daylight to dark. Checking in every so often makes it nice. I’m happy that he can still get up in there at 75 years old.

I haven’t had a full vacation since last deer season, a calendar year. The pandemic and the shortage of workers, combined with the difficulty of receiving supplies has made for a hectic year. I think the solitude of the woods is what I look forward to the most. I enjoy the moment the woods come to life at daybreak, the songbirds beginning their opening number, the squirrels chasing each other. Most importantly, there will be no people in my vicinity.

The ringing in of a new season rejuvenates me. There’s a little extra pep in my step these days. I believe every deer hunter probably feels the same way on the eve of the season. We all believe that this is the year. We just know that the big boy on the mountain will come cruising to us. If we didn’t think this way, why would we keep hunting?

Good luck to all deer hunters out there this season! Stay safe!

Author: Whipped Owl

Writer Musician Historian Sportsman Loner

3 thoughts on “The Eve”

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