Enthusiasm also apparently turned to hilarity for a moment, which, for the sake of all readers, I’ll simply describe as “hijinks.” He said they looked, poked with sticks, and asked questions. Dad later told my brother and me how incredibly fascinated the kids were with the process. That’s probably okay, I thought, if she isn’t grossed out, this will be far more memorable than another couple hours in the stand. My niece sat with him opening morning, and would have had another turn if not for his sudden success. Meanwhile, Papa had enlisted my son and niece in helping him gut and transport his deer. More than that, I was eager for the opportunity to translate my better tales into the knowledge and wisdom that will help her when she finally carries a gun and pulls the trigger. But she was primed to see everything theoretical take shape in real life.įor my part, I was happy to have a captive audience for the stories I’d collected over almost 30 years of deer hunting. Fresh out of her hunter safety course, it was too late for her to participate in the hunt. News of one filled tag prompted me to begin spilling stories to my girl, which I’d been saving for just the right time. Maybe my expectations needed reframing, too. I was somewhat disappointed not to have delivered such a satisfying ending for him. Though we did see one deer in the final minutes, he also wanted to be present for the taking of one. There’s no telling how many times he said he wanted “to see some deer.” I tried to impress on him the unpredictability of such things, attempting to reframe his expectations. He’d been with me the previous afternoon. It was soon confirmed Dad had gotten his deer. Not long after, a single shot rang out from the direction my dad and son were sitting. Not wanting to let the splendor go unmarked, I said something like “I love watching the world wake up like this,” and continued to observe the morning’s other happenings. She expressed mild astonishment, which was good enough for me. I don’t know if my daughter had witnessed a sunrise that like that before. All that remained was the memory and a few inadequate photos. The light show had come and gone in less than ten minutes. Everything intensified in a crescendo of color, creating a dramatic backdrop for cold, stiff oak branches.Īlmost at once, it disappeared. The clouds took a rich purple hue with rosy highlights. Then a little pink mixed in and grew more brilliant. It started as a clean yellow light, squeezing between the prickly horizon and the leaden blanket overhead. A record number of deer spotted the first day had us on edge, expecting the same or better. Close enough for them to hear us breathe. Deer had come out of nowhere, it seemed, creeping right below our windows, close enough to see the steam from their nostrils. The previous morning was bright and still. My daughter and I sat quietly in the stand for the second morning in a row, eyes and ears straining for signs of life. It was Sunday, the second day of deer camp.
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