There’s a wonderful and deep silence that’s part of the discipline of hunting. It takes a little while for the quiet to wrap itself around me and twine itself through me, and it takes a while for my mind to learn to read it and understand it.
- The tiny bounce of a squirrel making small bounds in the leaves 100 yards away, followed by the sound of his claws on the tree bark as he climbs back up his tree.
- The wingbeats of titmice and chickadees scurrying in the bare tree branches close by, and their friendly chatter. A titmouse ducks into a hole in a branch to roost for the night, and I can hear a few small scratches from inside as he finds his place to spend the night.
- A small group of ducks 30 or 40 yards overhead, and the rapid beat of their wings and the small chirps they make as they fly covers the silence of the woods while they pass.
- The distant chatter of a flock of geese patrolling their flight lanes not far away, flying high in a beautifully evolving pattern of v shapes.
- The occasional sigh of a small breeze through the trees, usually accompanied by a late leaf or two bouncing with light sounds off twigs and trunks as it makes it’s way to the ground.
- The deliberate sound of a deer’s hooves lightly moving along a path, along with the sound of scraped branches occasionally if it’s a buck.
In that magic moment when the end of daylight turns the keys over to the dark of night, there’s usually a profound quiet for just a few minutes, as all the small sounds of the day have gone away, and the nighttime sounds have yet to begin. Then, as-if in answer to this profound quiet, a possum will crawl out of its hole, and start to shuffle through the leaves on the forest floor. A couple raccoons might pick a fight and squabble for a brief moment. A soft sound of bat wings close over my head as he hunts for any remaining insects flying in the woods.
Finally, I climb down out of my treestand, and make my way back toward the sounds, smells, and light of a warm house. I’m infected with the magic of the quiet woods, and this infection will keep me coming back before first light every morning, and staying well after last light each night.