As I moved quietly through the moonless darkness, I could hear the tiny creaks and movements within to woods on my right, and I could feel the arms of the open prairie on my left. In the darkness, when you have surrendered to the world that you are moving through, it is as-though you can feel that world reaching out and exploring your soul – reaching inside of you to find what is there – exposing you and testing you. When it first happens, it is unnerving, but with each moment in surrender, it seems that both you and the little piece of world that you have surrendered to fall deeper and deeper into harmony and comfort.
I reached the tree that held my stand in its branches. It is not possible to be very quiet climbing into a tree, so this was the point in my morning trek where I could imagine any animals in the area looking my way, wondering what it was that was climbing into the tree in the darkness. Pulling my bow and pack up into the tree once I was in my stand, I settled into the familiar and comfortable position of resting, my bow across my lap with an arrow nocked. I occasionally used the antlers at my feet to rattle a bit, or sometimes would let a soft grunt float into the silence, but for the most part, I let myself find quiet.
And I listened.
I listened to my heart, as it slowed further and further. I could hear the sound of the blood pulsing through the arteries with each beat, becoming less loud as my pulse and blood pressure both declined. I could feel the thoughts in my mind begin to try and push their way into my immediate consciousness, and I resisted this by staying tightly tuned to listening.
My stand was in the branches of a tree that stood apart from the hedgerow beside it, close to the end where the hedgerow opened up into the prairie. At the very end of that hedgerow was a place that bucks commonly thought was prime real estate. There were many strong and fresh rubs there this year, as well as a lot of other sign indicating heavy traffic through the area. My stand was placed to watch that spot where the hedgerow opened up into the prairie and the rubs were thick. I was looking east, so the winter sun would rise in front of me and a little to the right.
I had been in the stand for long enough to have cooled down completely. I had rattled and grunted a few times, but had not heard anything that made me think that anyone was interested. Then, out of nowhere, I heard a twig snap in the woods 30 yard to my right.
