By Phillip Frankford
I’ve heard it said that the mark of a good story teller is the ability to take the listener or reader on a roller coaster ride of emotions. He or she will abruptly lead the way from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows in a way that leaves us hanging on every word. We rush quickly down the story’s trail to reach the next horizon where we will stand and behold the picturesque landscape of the next chapter for but a moment, and then once again we find ourselves rushing off toward the next horizon. We hasten our way to the journey’s end and then joy at the end of the journey and the story’s conflict is resolved. Yet we are also sad that our trail has reached its destination so soon. Maybe that’s why we love the outdoors. Every adventure is another story and we have to know the ending, and when it ends we are sad that it is over. As with stories the ones that we seem to remember the best and enjoy the most are the ones that take us on a wild ride of highs and lows.
The gentle southerly breeze on the right side of my face was unusually warm for Dec. 14. As I walked in for what would be my final hunt of the 2013 shotgun season I reflected on the fall. I had killed a doe with my bow and arrow. I’m new enough to archery hunting that any deer is still a trophy to me. Shotgun season was something of a disappointment. I missed two shots, the only real shot opportunities that I’d had in several days of hunting. Yet I had still enjoyed my time afield, some with family and friends, and some with just the companionship of a firearm that comes easily to my shoulder. My expectations for this hunt were low as I was going to a stand for an evening sit, and natural deer movement during daylight hours was practically non-existent here at the end of the second shotgun season.