The call of the woods

Today is the first day of firearm white tail deer season here in wonderful Northern Michigan. The sight of blaze orange and dead deer are everywhere as those who enjoy the sport head to the woods, this includes most members of my family, including myself.

I took this photo from my yard across the street of this beautiful white tail in the spring.

There is no way to tell at this time if it was a male (buck) or female(doe) because they don't grow their full horns until later into the year.

 
I learned at a very young age to stalk, hunt, eat, and appreciate the treasures of the hunt. I learned this from my father who was an avid sportsman and conservative wildlife preservationist.


This photo is one of the last taken of my father on a hunt. He died only 6 months after this trip to California hunting with his friends. They found the bear and tracked it with his dogs and got it up in a tree, then radioed down to the bottom of the mountain for him to come and shoot the "Cinnamon bear".

We all were and are grateful for the things he got to experience because of those men and women.

He did not only shoot for the hides, we always ate what he or we killed. I know this may be disturbing for some but for us it was a way of life and feeding our fairly poor family throughout my simple country childhood.

All of my children have now followed in the footsteps of my father, my husband and myself. They have all taken and passed hunters safety course work which entitles them the right to hunt with any firearm, bow and arrow, black powder rifle or even a hand gun under the supervision of adults.


My father would be very proud today of these kids and they keep his memory alive and honor him by each taking a little piece of him into the woods with them, whether its a compass, sling, hat, gloves or even his old hunting pants or coat on really cold days. He is with them in spirit and we all feel a bit closer to him in the woods then anywhere else.

Today my father has been gone 7 1/2 years, its still hard not to miss him on days like today when he would wake up before the sun and yell "RISE AND SHINE ITS DAYLIGHT IN THE SWAMP!" It was a ritual that I miss a great deal and when I woke to send off my hunters today, heard those very words again ringing in my ears and I cried a single tear for my lost hunter.

I myself will take to the woods and of course visit "Deer Camp" at least a few times over the course of the next two weeks just to hear the stories, laugh, remember and I may carry a gun into the woods, but I really just enjoy being in the quiet with my thoughts and of course remembering dad and the times we had together in the woods.