The season has started. The air must have a slight chill to it and the leaves need to be turning. A slight breeze with occasional gusting is a must. A little dampness adds just the right touch.
He has gotten out his rifle or bow and checked all the sights, gone over the barrel to make sure there is no pitting, adjusted the string. Then he sat and watched his weapon as if it were going to talk to him. He sighs or smiles and I know he is thinking of the big one - the one worthy of going on the wall, the trophy. Finally, the weapon is put away and he sleeps, dreaming of the next day's hunt. He is ready. It is the season.
1 comment:
Yeah, a deer for the freezer! A smile on his face and security in his stance - he is still the great white hunter!
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