Trad Gang
Topic Archives => Memorable Hunts => Topic started by: Killdeer on September 18, 2008, 03:23:00 PM
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The Incredible Shrinking Woman’s Hunt
As improbable as it seemed a month ago, the opportunity for me to slip away for a day and just follow the Red Gods about the forest magically appeared before me. Irresponsible by nature, I seized the moment and donned my grasshopper persona. I would do nothing but wander and fiddle away the day.
Awaking a little late, I put The Magic Bow and assorted gewgaws in the truck. A stop at the froofy coffee place, and I was away. The waning moon hung before me, a beacon to the west. My destination was an overused Wildlife Management Area. It being before the general firearms season for deer, and it being a Wednesday, I knew that I would likely have plenty of buffer space between me and anybody else who might have plans for the area.
Stars winked out and the lights went up, my heart singing with the tires on the Interstate, freedom beckoned just ahead! Gray turned to day as I pulled into the lot. Empty. Perfect!
Now, this goes with, this stays. Definitely DEET! Slather on, wash off palms…put the food in the quiver, bottle of water, just look at all the Jewelweed! Spotted touch-me-not, with all of those spring-loaded seedpods, is one of my favorites. Out comes the camera, because the dew is so perfect. Never mind the low light, the hands shaking from excitement and urgency, the lack of a tripod. I did my best, considering the myriad of things running through my mind. I was buzzed a few times by hummingbirds, stocking up for their migration south.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Jewelweed091708.jpg)
OK, amateur Ansel, we came here to hunt, so let’s get at it!
Killdeer :D
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Yup, we came here to hunt, and a-hunting we will go. Just behind the gate is the path to adventure! Happily I start up the gravelly track, sneakers crunching merrily along the tree shrouded lane. There’s a brown thing. I could wait an hour, to see if it moves, or wait for full light, or blunder into it or…I bring the binoculars up and watch a scrawny spike nosing about the shrubbery ahead. He is safe for now, and he certainly acts as though he knows it. I close the distance a bit and strike a hunterly pose. He gazes back placidly, as though those three-inch velveted spikes were a magic charm to protect him from all evil. A car goes by up above us, and he distractedly turns toward the sound, then resumes grazing. I shorten the gap to thirty yards. He looks up, and starts the twitchy fidgeting and head bobbing that all deer find proper in such circumstances. He eyes the steep upward embankment that leads to the main road. I turn aside and study the ground. He reverses direction and haltingly lurches into the brushy ravine below us. Good choice. I didn’t want to be responsible for driving him into the road. Now, with that behind me, I could go hunt, right? And so I did.
Coming up to the end of the lane, the trees gave way to grass as I walked up to the dam that keeps a beautiful body of water from turning into a stream before its time. I was looking forward to seeing the mostly full moon hanging in and over the water at this special time of day. What met my gaze had me a bit nonplussed. About half the water was missing! Here was real estate that I had only guessed at, cracked, and parts of it overgrown with grasses and wildflowers. Rocks and a manmade fish-holding structure looked embarrassed at their exposure to the casual gaze. The level was down a good twelve to fifteen feet. I would have to check this out further, once I got done looking at God’s garden here on the dam. See all that green grass at the back of the lake? That’s supposed to be water.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0431.jpg)
Killdeer
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There was a wildly diverse garden growing here on the dam, and the dew was perfect, so I got the ol’ camera out again, and started seeing what was what. There was a throwback to the sixties, pokeweed, in all its psychedelic glory.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0445.jpg)
Thistles were peaking, and I knew that later on they would be hosting tiger swallowtails, metalmarks and goldfinches.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0439.jpg)
There were heathers and ferns and sumac, and grasses with their tips painted vermilion as though a blood trail were spouted over them. The sumacs were doing that too, their green-fringed arms sporting the brightest red tassels, as though the former inhabitants of this place come back every fall for celebrations, hunts and feasts. There was stuff I didn’t know the name of, too, and I took pics for later identification. Anybody know what this is? Heaven forbid that I should have to Google it up.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0446.jpg)
I wanna find out what this is, too. These are the things that are mostly big white seeds under the skin and when you pinch them you can shoot them at your friends. I didn’t find these till later, but as long as somebody may be looking stuff up…
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0455.jpg)
Like I said, the dew was perfect, and before I had traversed half the length of the dam, my socks were soaked. It not being too chilly, I just shrugged and went with it. I could sit and dry them later.
I turned my attention to the lake bed. Deeply cracked, indecently exposed, well, I had to look. Maybe a 1966 Hula Popper was in there. Ya never know
Killdeer~gotta go to my weekly meeting of the Chagrined Again Hunting Club :wavey:
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Like poetry, lady.
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more!!!!!
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:thumbsup:
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Awesome stuff Lady! Photos are magnificient!
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very nice start Killie, I love ready your writing.
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Great story and photos! Got any photos of your camp, gear, yourself, and you bow setup with the beautiful arrows you make? You make us remember to look at the beauty around us as we hunt! Thanks, Killdeer. Ken
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Beautiful words...beautiful pics... :notworthy:
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Kathy, those are spectacular photos as always :thumbsup:
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Killy, is the shrub with the red berries spice bush(Lyndera benzoin)? Kinda looks like it to me. Makes good tea and arrow shafts! The other with the purple/blue flowers looks like a lezpedezia(sp); flowers look pea like.
Great pics! I always enjoy your take on nature. I can tell where your heart is from it! Pat
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awesome killie dear :campfire: :coffee: but hurry back and tell somemore.
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(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0446.jpg)
Looks like beggar's lice, can't tell for sure but at least similar: http://davesgarden.com/guides/pf/go/71406/
These leaves are trefoil like BL but look a little more broad, and most BL is a more gangly plant.
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Woderful pictures and story Ansel\\Killdeer, you see the best in life. And best of all share it. :thumbsup:
Brent
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Those pictures are incredible Killdeer!
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what great pics! :thumbsup:
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Wonderful story so far!! :clapper: :clapper: :clapper:
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I'd give a big nickle to scout through her photo file...but without the poetic rhetoric that goes with it when she posts, might not carry the same impact!
Thanks for sharing, melady! :)
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Absolutely wonderful, Killie! Thank you for brightening up the work week!
Claudia
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Very nice Killie, I'm glad you got a chance to get out for awhile!
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Oh my, Killie...that was a beautiful walk along on your day in the woods. I know for a fact that it was very well deserved, indeed. Nothing like some time in God's nature to renew the soul. Thanks for sharing! Fondly....
Tim :wavey:
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Killie awesome pic's, poetry indeed. I'll be up in Mcdowell county on Nov 10th for some serious hunting with a friend. One week of WV hunting. Anyway thought about our talk at ATAR and all the beauty up in your neck of the woods, as seen by your photo's. Happy hunting.
P.
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Well.....get on with it girl! :coffee:
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I'm almost afraid to ask but, what is a gewgaw??
Great pics and story. We should all take the time to enjoy our surroundings the way Killie does. A little less focus on filling our tag and a little more focus on the spectacle of nature around us.
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:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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:bigsmyl: :thumbsup: More Please....
Are you going to make it to Rough Mountain this year????????
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:notworthy: :notworthy: :notworthy:
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"I'm almost afraid to ask but, what is a gewgaw??"
Not to talk for Killie, but I believe it is what ever stuff we feel it necessary to our outing, whatever that may be. In the Mtn. man days it was baubles and trinkets, etc. for trade with the injuns and perhaps fellow trappers and hunters.
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Killie, when you get ready to go full time with your writing I believe you'd be a tremendous success. Meanwhile I feel priviledged to enjoy it for free. As always you can take a day that I might take for granted and make a jewel of it. Thanks
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The mere mention of Hula Poppers bring back my boyhood days on the lake. Dont know if you can still get them.
Love the photos and the narrative so far.
:campfire: Lin
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Another Killie treasurer! And what a treat it is, as usual.
Thank you dear lady for pointing out once again what most of us miss in our journeys. Keep reminding us to open our eyes!
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Made my day! Feel like I was actually there. Thanks.
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as allways, just outstanding. this thread is like a big bowl of ice cream, late at night after a hard days work!
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Way better than Adams and nothing more responsible than posting to your fellow wanderers. Reading you is like a breath of enlightenment, all too soon over. Just a bit more before turning in please...
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I enjoyed your day as well, thank you Kathy, but please "froofy coffee" :rolleyes:
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Killie...
Wonderful post....just reminds me once again why I enjoy TradGang soooo much!!
Thanks!!
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got to be Starbucks! takes me a half hour just to order a house coffee!! :banghead:
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Ken: it might be like a bowl of ice cream late at night but, reading this sure ain't going to make us gain weight! :biglaugh:
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Geegaw, same as foofaraw.
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By the way Killdeer,
great story and pics,
Thank you
Respecfully,
John
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You know what they say, "The longer the name of your drink is, the more of an...."
I'm sure somebdy has told you the rest. ;) :p
It is past my bedtime, the meeting ran late. I'll try to get more on here in the morning.
Killdeer :notworthy:
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Here we call it "FiveBucks".
Great thread Killie.
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Another great Killie thread.. Beautiful pics.
Could the red berried bush be part of the "holly" family? I wish I could see the whole plant.
John III
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Awesome pictures and writing. Thanks for sharing. Jawge
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:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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Those pictures make my heart smile. Now if we can only get you and Ken to write a book together that would be a priceless, timeless, classic. :thumbsup:
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Killdeer, I have been a "cyber stalker" of you for quite awhile now..your writing brings tears to my eyes..I love your pictures.. I aspire to have as wonderful an experience as you seem to have on your outings..I will take my camera so I can share also.. I feel I see the same things as you do and I to enjoy the journey and the sights..whether its deer or bright red cardnals...I hope this is not creepy..
Shawn... :campfire:
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Beautiful pictures Killy, looking forward to the follow ups :D
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You should be naturally irresponsible more often.
UFO`s might be sucking your lake dry. :eek:
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Definitely capturing the essence of a hunt!
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Delightful, magical, peaceful....I truly enjoy your little adventures.
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Pokeberry. Thank you Killy, now I know what's been taking over where I cleared last year.
I always enjoy reading your thoughts and you have a real talent for capturing images on film.
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:bigsmyl: Really nice! :thumbsup: Thanks! CK
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What a treat! Thanks Killie.
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I walked to the end of the dam, watching a morose beaver moping along the perimeter of the lake below me. The shoreline was barren, and I wondered if the creature was doing this out of habit, some maudlin pilgrimage, or the pitiful hope that some sudden striped maple had suddenly thrust itself, a tempting foot in diameter, out of the ground overnight. But there was no maple, no grass, no cover at all anywhere around the water’s edge.
A lone kingfisher rattled up to a naked rock and sat, lord of the minnows.
I was walking on little islands, cracked out of the muddy bottom of the lake. The cracks ran a foot deep. Some islands were firm, some not so firm, depending on the slope and drainage and depth of their location in the bed. Aside from bait cans and beer cans and bottles, there was no treasure to be found. One full beer bottle…I’m sure there was a story there, but it wasn’t telling. Tightmouthed curmudgeon. I headed for the big pile of rocks. Maybe someone had snagged a Rapala there and not been able to extract it. The islands got softer and softer, finally turning into pudding just shy of the rocks. I clambered out of the muck onto stone, clumping along in Frankenstein sneakers of mud. I poked and pried, but found not so much as a sinker. An old and rusted lyre-like iron frame lay on the ground, likely one side of an andiron found at the old homesite and used as an anchor. Well, desirable as this treasure was, I left it for the next guy to puzzle over, and with thoughts of the last dweller of this tract rolling about my brain, I lurched back into the muck and made my way to the little island, which was no longer an island.
Freshwater clam shells littered the ground. In places, whole clams, trapped in drying mud, lay encased. The island, traditional refuge of local geese, was empty but for scrubby shrubs and smilax, and a trashy campsite. Up one side, down the other bank surveyed in five minutes, I was off to hunt. Enough exploring! Why was I carrying a bow if I were not there to hunt? Ah, look at those walnut trees! Full of nuts! There must be squirrels aplenty here!
Killdeer :bigsmyl:
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I stepped through the dewy grass, the air pleasantly cool, the sun clear and golden in the crystal air. It shone full and bright on the earnest faces of the short clumps of coreopsis. Hummingbirds darted among the honeysuckle, their low buzzing warm and fuzzy in my ears.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0451.jpg)
I approached the woodline, and listened to a squirrel barking territorially in the distance. Ah, again the hunter, and stealthily returning the camera to its pouch, I stole through the sedges, the dew washing the mud from my soaked footwear. I stepped upon the path, and saw all the red berries…out came the camera. I knew that guys being guys, somebody would ask about my equipment. :rolleyes:
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0457.jpg)
So I took this picture, which is so soft that it makes me try to rub the goop out of my eyes, and then the one I already showed you earlier. Ok, you don’t know which one. This one.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0455.jpg)
And then my camera told me to replace the battery pack. No sweat. I had three batteries. I swiftly swapped cells with the speed and grace of the professional I am. Ah! Round two… Replace battery pack. This is accompanied by a retraction of apparatus and the petulant snapping shut of the lens cover. I raised its nose in the air to verify, and I think I heard an annoyed sniff come from it. I eyeballed the lens cover, its arms folded in a pout. If it stamps its little foot it is going into the remains of the shrunken lake, I thought.
OK, another battery. How could the spare be dead? I recharged them…didn’t I? Of course I did, at the archery club, mere weeks ago. So in goes the third one. The lens ventured out, and fled back in faster than a too-early groundhog. Well crap. I can’t tell a story without pics! Now I have to give up my pursuit of beauty, the sharing of wonders, and ..um, hunt. Nothing to do but hunt, so hunt it is. Do I hear two squirrels fussing at each other? Uh huh!
Killdeer :archer:
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This is a welcome surprise!
Got an appointment with a doe, hopefully.
Be back for the next installment...thanks.
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Wonderful! I'm almost sad that you have to hunt. Love the nature walk.
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I've read your posts for a couple years now and quietly wait to enjoy your next. Your writing style shows a vast intelligence and keen awareness of life and beauty.
Thank you for taking the time to show me what things are like in your world. You always seem to brighten mine. :archer:
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There they were, breaking up in the walnut tree and heading further from the path. I followed because I am stupid. It took about thirty feet, then I realized that they had seen me coming and that’s why they had broken up and split. I poked a big white mushroom half-heartedly and headed back to the trail. Somebody had ridden a small horse down it in the last couple of days. Cute li’l shoes…The path bent around a fallen tree, got smaller, there were more bright red berries, all shiny, from the jack-in-the-pulpits of spring. The spiders had been busy, as they always seem to step up production at the end of the season. I was ducking, bobbing and weaving, but still went through enough of them (sorry, Spider) that I felt a little cocooned when I came to a pretty place to sit. Beech trees, walnuts, hickories…all I had to do was sit still and wait, right?
The stone wall that ran along the creek took a 90-degree turn and stopped. I sat, drinking in the distance of time between me and when the wall was put up. This had been a mountain orchard at one time, and there were walls all through the property. Since I first came to it in 1985 or shortly before, I had seen the orchards waste away and get buried by the hardwood forest. There were also plantings done by the game commission, but all in all, this was mostly oaks and ash, beech and cherry, walnuts and hickory, maples and …now where were those pawpaws? They ought to be about ripe by now. The log got hard; I started thinking about pawpaws and started down the path again.
It followed the creek until it came to a ford, and what looked like an old two-track went up the hill to the right. I pictured an old wooden-spoked farm truck grinding its way upward, and followed its exhausting path. It eventually petered out (they all seem to do that here!) and I sat for a bit. I heard hooves on rocks. Slow hooves, but a soft clacking nonetheless. The woods were thick, there was a huge blowdown, and I could see nothing. I sat. All became quiet. There was a squirrel. Thirty yards out, it was a skulking shadow that slid out of sight. I brought up the binoculars and scanned. I saw an ear. It was moving rhythmically, as the jaws worked and the nut’s husk dropped. The eye appeared, and the jaws stopped. These guys are wise. I knew better, and stayed still. The eye disappeared, as did the ear. Three minutes and fifty yards later, there it was, headed thataway. I ate my first slice of pumpkin bread, took a sip of water, and made some smoke for the spirits. I wistfully thought about my Red Rifle, a magnificently stocked Remington 552 from the fifties that was locked in my truck. Then again, I am not particularly fond of cleaning squirrels. I would much rather do a deer than a rat any day. The day was still young, and I was in no hurry to hang carcasses from my belt as the sun warmed. I gathered my stuff and leaving a piece of the crust, (with all the nut-bits on it!) on the rock with some tobacco, I looked for my next opportunity.
Killdeer :archer:
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Truly beautiful photographs melded with magnificent prose! It awakens the inner spirits. An absolutely great read.
Ed
TGMM Family of the Bow
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:scared: :scared:
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just settled down with a hot piece of Zuc bread to read this thread again, what a treat, both bread and thread! :bigsmyl:
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Kathy
See, I ain't the only one who thinks you otta write more :saywhat:
I'll bet you got enough pictures for ten books :thumbsup:
I'll shut up now, don't want to break your thought process.
Please carry on :notworthy:
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Shucks, Robin, what makes you think I'm thinking? :saywhat:
I have a little bit here and then I will be out for a day. Going to Al Edge's for some good eats and muzzleloader shooting, and to see his new shop. If I can do it (Jimmy the Geek talks a lot when he drives) I will work with paper and pencil, and transfer it to computerese after I get back that evening or Sunday.
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I hadn't gone twenty steps when there was a commotion on the other side of the blowdown. Rocks grudgingly moved under the weight of hooves, brush crackled and a Carolina wren fussed. I heard lumbering footsteps, and a huge deer materialized from the end of the blowdown.
It trotted heavily, sleepily, very much surprised and a little curious. I glanced, saw no headgear, but this was a BIG deer and all alone. It was just out of my bow range, which is mighty short, but my scattered perceptions do not give me any detail except it looked every bit as big as a buck I killed one year that was 154# field dressed. My eye instinctively goes to the kill zone, not the rack, so there may or may not have been some small growth. I doubt that I would have missed a big rack at that short range! Once safely out of sight, the deer slowed and stopped, no doubt to see if an old lady would give chase. No, I peered as far as I could (not far, in this disheveled tangle of woods) and then made my way up the hill and to the other side of the downed tree. I picked and speculated and figure that he got up when I arrived, stood like a statue while I ate, then spooked out when I started to move again. This is a heavily hunted area in gun season, and the deer here know all the moves.
Restless, I returned back to the two-track and the creek. Squirrels were fussing.
Killdeer
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Thanks for teaching me what hunting is truly about. Yours is the attitude that I will always go into the woods with and try to have when I come out. Thanks for taking us along with you.
We will take you along with us at Ken's in the Adirondacks.
Sincerely
Brian
:campfire:
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A great spangled fritillary escorted me down to the creekside. I left it basking in a sun-dapple strategically focused on an aster, and found a log from which to listen. Two squirrels were playing chasetail and grabnapple in a nearby walnut, across the shallow stream. They descended the trunk, and so I arose and crossed the stony bed to the other side. A high bank gave me the advantage of being hidden while being able to peer over the edge and into the woods beyond. Hugging a fallen tree, I watched for movement. The cool air, the gurgle of water and the promise of game made it pleasant to stand there and wait. It didn’t take very long, five or ten minutes, and I heard the sound of scampering feet approaching. They became silent. Suddenly, at about ten yards, the squirrel appeared. Ah! A broiler squirrel, not too big, not too small.. Silently, haltingly, it came along a downed limb toward me. A tree would mask my movements soon, and I tightened my fingers on the string.
Killdeer~gotta go put on my shoes. Leaving in fifteen minutes. :D
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Oh Great Gurus.....
Pokeberry....pokeweed....same as elderberry?? I have these growing beside my house, and do enjoy a sip of elderberry wine with dinner occasionally.
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Not the same!
Make wine out of these and you will never need to buy laxative again! They are lots of fun for putting fuchsia spots on your neighbors' white critters, though. :D
Google up both species and you will see the many differences between the two.
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The squirrel continued on its log, and the conspiring tulip poplar concealed me as I drew the string back. When the squirrel appeared on the other side, it halted in an "Uh-oh" moment. Perfect...I felt the fletch at the corner of my mouth, and a hex head sped to the kill zone. The squirrel was bowled off of the fallen limb and down the small bank, rolling.
I started clambering over three feet of fallen trunk to get to it as it started to regain itself. A couple of jumps for the squirrel and the arrow dropped free, the squirrel whirling toward the poplar that had been my ally. The turncoat tree now hid my would-be dinner from sight. Dismounting the tree trunk, I followed my nocked arrow back around the poplar. I looked up the trunk, down at the ground, up the trunk, round and round.
^#^&$
Killdeer :mad:
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didn't think ya had to tenderize veal before ya cook it???? :bigsmyl:
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Standing back. I surveyed the ground. There lay my arrow. There was where the shot was taken, there was my arrow (again…) and there was where the squirrel was when it disappeared behind the tree. It was headed toward the trunk, but may have;
a) Ducked under something
b) Climbed the trunk
c) Fled directly away from the trunk
I gazed up the trunk, prizing apart foliage and branches with my eyes. It being a middling-young tulip poplar, there wasn’t much there, but there was enough to hide a squirrel. Meanwhile, I had to be sure that it hadn’t um…squirreled itself away in a crevice down here. I lifted all the logs I could, and dug under those I couldn’t, looking for burrows. I prized apart rotted logs inspecting the cavities therein. I ruffled all the fallen leaves piled in nooks around trees and rocks. I scanned the uneven ground looking for clues. The arrow was a little greasy at the tip, and had one hair on it. Finding a spot some distance from the poplar, I leaned back and watched the treetop.
Some fifteen minutes later, I heard a high-pitched call from just downstream. I went to investigate.
Killdeer :help:
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The call was strident, and repeated in an unbirdlike way, so I was hopeful that I would find a miserable squirrel that I would kindly collect and bag. Never having heard a real distressed squirrel call, I was about to learn something here! I meandered around, trying to pinpoint the source. Hmm. It was UP. But where? This bank or the other? I gazed up, like a springtime warbler-watcher.
The sycamore on the other bank has a mess of holes in it, three that I can see from here. One is an established pileated woodpecker’s hole, the scarring showing that it has been used for several years. As if on cue, the woodpecker arrived. He inspected his digs, and bobbed his gaze from side to side. He then went to pick bugs off of a nearby limb. I heard the call again and looked above me. Young titmice were up there, two of them, looking a little frowzled like young’ns can, and calling to be fed. Old enough to feed themselves, they still begged their parents in an annoying high-pitched wheedle. Oh. Dummy. Then came the tinkling bell-like titterings that evidently endear them to one another. I went back up the bank to the scene of the crime, and resumed watching the poplar. The high-pitched calls continued from downstream.
Killdeer :(
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I picked a good log to sit, and sat. I am good at that. A half hour later, I had seen nothing, and become dissatisfied with my diagnosis of the calls from downstream. Those birds should have moved on by now, but the calls continued. I got up to see about it. I hadn’t moved ten steps when I saw someone else investigating the noise.
Quartering toward me at a steady dogtrot came a red fox, russet and fluffy. This being a horsey county, he was off limits. I could count coup, though! So I watched him approach, and planned my timing. Yup, behind a tree, draw bow, out from behind it…coup! He was 20 feet away, in the open, and clearly mine. I chalked one up, mentally, and two steps later he passed into my scent stream. With no outward sign shown, he turned right around and trotted back the way he had come, not missing a beat. They are so cool!
Turning back to the dilemma at hand, I figured that if the fox had been coming in to the calls I had heard, I had better reinvestigate. Back downstream I went, and planted myself across the creek from the sycamore. Under overhanging branches, I was shielded, yet could scan that and other nearby trees with the binoculars. I ate my last piece of pumpkin bread and drank some water, settling in to wait.
Killdeer :coffee:
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Great story Kille :thumbsup: keep it coming :campfire: :coffee:
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I looked up and there was a squirrel on the sycamore. It went down the trunk and entered a small hole. A face appeared in the hole. I waited. I heard the call. Darn. The same thing happened again. And again. It went into the pileated’s hole. It came out, it went in. Sixty-some feet up the tree, it looked so small. I waited.
Looking up, I saw a squirrel in the crotch of the tree, its back toward me. I could hit that, right? Knock him down and that would end it. I crept forward. A squirrel came out of the pileated’s hole and started climbing the trunk. What the…? The new squirrel fumbled, and fell as I watched. Mentally, I teetered between pity and relief that the squirrel had finally succumbed. It caught in a shrub six feet from the ground. It hung limply from a hind leg. Arrow ready, I walked toward it. It was getting smaller and smaller as I approached. If I came right up, I thought, it might disappear altogether! Three feet away from it, it gave a mighty heave and dropped to the stones of the creek bed. I restrained it with the tip of my bow across its neck. A strange muttering issued from it. Not wanting to just grab it, I released the bow from it, and it started crawling. It was tiny! An incredible shrinking squirrel!
What now?
Killdeer :confused:
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I lowered my hand and mentally cringed as the squirrel approached it. It gave a sniff, put out a paw, and climbed aboard. Well…I stroked it, and it emitted squirrelly purrs. O mighty hunter… I carefully placed my bow on the ground, and used both hands to cradle the baby.
I took it to the tree that it had just vacated. Placing it on the trunk, it weebled. It turned around and went back onto my hand. Rehab? I thought of my dog and my cat, both of whom would be delighted to have this new companion. I thought of all the work and care, and all my other worries. I thought of the apartment, and the squirrel took an exploratory nibble. “You fur durn sure ain’t coming home with me!”
I put it on the trunk, got my bow, and started across the creek. On the far bank, I looked back. Here came the squirrel. Onto my shoe, up the leg onto my shoulder and just far enough back that I would have to really grab it to move it. This was a real head-shaking, eye-rolling conundrum. I went back to the sycamore. I took out my cell phone, Clark would have some ideas. No coverage.
Who would believe this? I thought wistfully about my brain-dead camera. Well, maybe, just maybe…
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0458.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0459.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0460.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0462.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0461.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0463.jpg)
Evidently a rest and higher temps allowed me to squeeze these six shots out of the camera. It quit on the seventh, another hold-your-camera-out-and-take-a picture–of–yourself-with-a-squirrel-on-your-shoulder-while-rolling-your-eyes-shot that everybody takes, so no great loss here. If it were something original I would have been upset.
Killdeer :rolleyes:
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Now THAT is very cool Killdeer! I am thoroughly enjoying your writing!
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Who's got who (or is it whom?) you are cracking me up as usual Killy. Happy trails getting out of this one!
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So, now that my grand hunt had shrunk down to a Disney DVD, and I had run out of popcorn, so to speak, what to do with this delectable bonbon? I did not want the responsibility of its upbringing, and my neighborhood does NOT need another squirrel. The end result would be a tamed, destructive rodent attaching itself to my environs and me. It was not the one I had shot, and I was not responsible for its plight.
My nurturing side wanted to shelter and protect the little rat. My practical side knows full well how Nature works. Both sides remembered the fox, in all its radiant, predatory glory. I had to leave, lest this turn into a bonding session for the both of us, so I picked the middle road. I stretched to the full magnificence of my height and placed it on the trunk. It looked back. I slapped both hands on the trunk and exhorted it to climb, climb like the Devil was behind it, and beat my little feet across the creek and away. I left it no worse than I had found it. I looked back once and saw nothing. I looked forward and hoped for the best.
This chapter behind me, and yet with me, I wandered away. I questioned the wisdom of hunting squirrels so early in the season. What if I had shot the mother? I didn’t think the one I shot was old enough to be a mom yet, but what if a rifle hunter had gotten her, and that was why the two were up there unattended? I don’t like the bio-logic of that scenario. As an archer, I don’t have the ability to scope out the items necessary for the certainty of shooting a boar as a shot suddenly presents itself. Neither do most gun hunters. So, I don’t believe that I will be likely to hunt squirrels again so early in the season.
This I considered as I sat by the lake, making smoke and contemplating the gang of vandal carp roiling the mud as they tailed in the shallows. The Lord of the Minnows sat on his rock, sad that I was sitting over the only overhanging limb at the lakeside. It had been a very full day, and my feet were still soaked.
On the nearby tree, a small walkingstick made its way up the trunk, reminding me of many Octobers that I had spent there, watching hundreds of larger walkingsticks make more walkingsticks before the winter closed in and shut them down. The winter would come, the babies would grow or be killed, and the cycles would revolve as they always have. A kettle of vultures circled in the sky. A redtail screamed, and I picked up my pack and left.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v249/Killdeer/Hunting%20and%20Camp/2008%20Hunt/Img_0441.jpg)
Killdeer~looking for crummy old broadheads...
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:clapper: :clapper: :clapper: :clapper: Absolute beauty in your pictures and your words. Skippy
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Anything in the woods is more believeable the more unbelievable it is...
... Glad you got a couple of pics to remind you of the moment...and wise choice on not bringing home a late bloomer to the rancho Killy-Mockingbird nest!
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just plan awesome, words can not describe YOUR WORDS.
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Turnabout is fair play, eh, Kenny?
:bigsmyl:
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Great Story as usual Killy . I enjoyed that.
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ok i'm ready for more!
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Killy, great story, enjoyed it.
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Thanks!
Kenny, I'll need another day off to gather more stories. :bigsmyl:
Killdeer
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whats your # at work, i'm sure they will understand! :knothead: :bigsmyl: :pray:
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Killie, aka. squirrel whisperer
Those are just awesome pics. Wow is all I could say when they were loading. Great story, thanks for sharing with us.
John III
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Always a sheer joy Killie!
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Uh oh, your not getting squirlly are ya? ;)
Just kidding Kathy, as always your veiws of the country you travel is a breath of fresh air. please continue when ever the mood strikes you to share :notworthy:
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Great story and pics Kathy! Was a pleasure to meet you at the deer-slayer shot a few weeks ago.
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Phooey. Took some time at lunch to have a look at this thread, and come to find I can't see the photos! :confused: It's as if they're just not there. Betcha it has to do with the firewall they've got here at work. I'll need to use your machine to see 'em, Killy. :saywhat:
(BTW, great story, and well told. Even without the photos, I was there, too. Thank you kindly!)
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Great story superb pictures. Thanks for sharing. You certainly have a gift. :thumbsup:
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Thanks guys! Sometimes I wonder if this goopy stuff will bore most folks. I can't Whip out a good elk story, my Littlefeathers won't fly me to javie country, and I am much less than Severe in my pursuit of true wilderness.
I am truly honored that you apparently enjoy my little ramblings.
Killdeer :notworthy:
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well killie ya big soft great white hunter killer of all things great and small what a bloody hoot!!!! :biglaugh: :jumper: :jumper: :jumper:
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Kathy : Awesome story and pics :notworthy: :clapper:
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Please ramble on Killie, it is a truly enjoyable read.
Dennis
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Um...when is the next chapter? Great story and loved the pictures.
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I have not had a read that good; that poetic, in quite awhile...
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Good story Killie,
As you can see, all is well in the trad-gangers world when you bring light to life with the stories you tell.
Thank you. Bruce :thumbsup:
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Good reading...never boring.. :thumbsup: :cool:
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Dances with Squrriels, who taught you treeveal chatter????
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Ken.....Dances with Squirrels....Thats funny stuff right there. :biglaugh:
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KILDEER, GREAT STUFF!!
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I didn't enjoy it worth a durn - until I took the time to open it and read it that is. Bless your heart, Killie, you deserve those kinds of happenings in the forest for how much happiness you bring to others with them. It was, as usual a jewel box full of gems - to include some of the reader's comments as well. It also made a not so great day, a whole lot better for me - thank you, my friend.
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I eagerly await the next installment. Beautiful!
Randy