My men spent the past four mornings out in the cold on our little acreage. Out before sunrise, ooohing over the setting full moon. Hoping for a deer.
We see deer on a regular basis out here. Frequently, our bird feeders are tipped, all the seed on the ground, from the deer trying to help themselves to a snack.
My men came in to warm themselves with coffee and cocoa, around 9:30 each day. No luck, they said. But it was a gorgeous morning to sit and be outside.
I think that's what the hunting is really all about, in their minds. And that is why I love them. The process, not the product.
Much like fiber work in my life...
1 comment:
Heh - the last ten years of my dad's life (he was an avid hunter all of my childhood), he took up bow hunting for deer. I am firmly convinced it was so he would have an excuse NOT to shoot. He really just wanted to be out in the woods.
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