A nice buck is standing right behind the tree I’m in, sporting for a fight with another buck. There isn’t another buck here, but he thinks there might be based on the antlers I’ve rattled twice. He’ll walk into range for me in just a few minutes as he sniffs around looking for an opponent to size up.
He’s a nice buck – probably 4 on a side but maybe 5. I saw where he likes to lay up late yesterday afternoon, and figured I could rattle him in to this spot early this morning. I was right…
I watch him walk past me. He’s within range, but he’s headed up to where my brother-in-law is sitting, and he’ll probably have a better shot than I will. Plus, it’s early in my week of hunting here, and I don’t want to use up my buck tag this early unless it’s a real big boy.
This morning is pristine and perfect. Right at about freezing, with the promise of a nice day, and the rut is just coming into bloom. Climbing up into this stand this morning I was reminded of how scary the climbs in the dark can be when there’s frost on the handholds, footholds, and stand. That last hoist onto the platform always gets the heart pounding.
I enjoy the scenery for the rest of the morning, not seeing any other deer. The squirrels who call this little corner home aren’t at all happy that I’ve taken up temporary residency here, and make their opinion quite clear to me. To make up for it, though, there are a couple of really friendly Chickadees who are quite curious about me, and often will land within a few feet of me as they flit about the branches. A pair of Hairy Woodpeckers find a good cache of something under the bark nearby, and work away for quite a while.
At one point, a Cooper’s Hawk, (of course, it could have been a Sharp Shinned), is flying silently through the branches straight toward me, and veers at the last minute. He flies within 2 feet of me, but far too fast for me to make out many details. The grace of his silent dance through the branches is breathtaking, and I suspect he’ll find breakfast pretty quickly as thick as the birds are in these trees.
In the evening, as I’m back in the stand again, the Chickadees have become even more curious and friendly. Though I wish the hawk good luck in his hunting, I’m glad that these little guys who add some social complexion to my solitary treestand didn’t end up as a meal for him today. Before the light goes completely, I’m able to get a new buck down here into my corner, but he’s not one I’ll shoot either – he’s probably a 3 year old.
After climbing down out of the tree, I squat quietly in on the damp ground for a few minutes to listen around me. Hoisting my pack and picking up my bow, I start a slow and quiet walk toward the house in the dappled moonlight of the lane. I’m comforted by the look of the house as I approach it, hearing the dogs barking up the lane a ways.
Few things feel as good to the heart as the sight of home as you approach it in the dark of a chilly night. The warm light pouring out of the windows into the chilly darkness fill you up inside with the promise of a warm fire inside. It’s hard to keep a smile off your face while looking forward to the friendly banter of family inside, and warm comfort food spooned into a bowl.
It feels good to be me right now, and my heart is full of thanks.
