June of 2008 we moved back to Louisiana and my dad got me interested in shooting my mom's old bow. I remember thinking how powerful it felt to be able to pull back on that bow the first time...even though it was only set at like 30lbs. I was hooked. Daddy set me up with a ground blind behind their house for that first few months. The first time I went, he went and sat with me and we saw nothing. I went for probably a month, every weekend, and saw nothing. Then one morning, I was sitting in the blind by myself, just as daylight was starting to creep into the woods. I had been leaning back waiting for it to get bright enough to see anything, just listening to the sounds of the woods coming alive. I heard an owl hooting, a few squirrels stirring, and just rustling of leaves here and there from creatures unknown. I decided to lean up and see if I could make out any shapes yet. Right at that instant, the owl that I had been hearing was flying straight at the tiny hole I had to look out of from the blind. I luckily had my bow in my lap, ready to go, and just stuck the tip of the arrow out of the hole and screamed. The owl swooped up, brushing the top of the tent as he flew over. I had to stop hyperventilating and get my blood pressure back to normal, that took about an hour. All I could think was if I hadn't sat up at that instant, that owl would have been inside the tent with me, and one of us would have certainly died. Well, that having happened, I just knew my hunt was going to be ruined as my primal scream had to have scared off any breathing creature within a 5 mile radius. However, right before 9am, I looked out and 4 deer were coming towards the spot across the creek where we were putting our corn out. Once again, I started hyperventilating and getting tunnel vision and thought my heart was surely beating so loudly they could hear it. I had to lean back and regain composure while waiting for them to come in closer. Once I had ahold of myself, and they were close enough to shoot at, I took aim at the largest doe in the group. I shot and knew that I hit her, and they all took off running in different directions. My heart was racing and I still was having trouble breathing, who knew hunting was such a respiratory hazard?? I waited about 10 minutes and couldn't stand it any longer. I got out and walked as quickly as I could back to the house. I came in the back door and could hardly speak but somehow managed to relay to my dad that I had shot a deer. The look on his face at that moment was priceless, and I had never felt that proud to tell him something in my life (other than when my son was born) or more connected to him. We went out and followed the blood trail for hours, but never found my deer. I really think I just gave her a flesh wound, not a fatal shot. I was disappointed, but was so hooked on that rush of adrenaline I had felt that I knew this was just the beginning. I ended up shooting two other deer that season, one with my bow that ended up being much smaller than I initially thought it was, and another with my dad's gun with him there beside me. Here's a pic of that one, a spike....
Last season I had decided I was going to be more selective with what I shot at, and went the entire bow season without shooting a single thing, until the very last day of season. I was hunting behind my parents house and a buck came out. This was the third antlered deer I had seen while bow hunting, ever, and the first that I had a good shot at. I shot him perfectly, and he took off running. Again, we trailed him, this time with a blood trail that was most certainly going to lead us to a dead deer, for a few hours and then all of a sudden, the blood just disappeared. Nothing..no where. We looked again the next day and still couldn't find it. I was super disappointed because I knew that he was a bigger buck, but wasn't sure how many points he was. That was the end of January. My parents had their hayfield cut this past summer, and the guy cutting hay found my deer about 30 yards from where we lost the blood trail. I couldn't believe it. Unfortunately, his horns were all ready gone, apparantly rodents like to snack on those.
Anyway...we decided that I needed a stronger bow this year and hopefully that will make a difference in a kill. I'm heading over to my parents this afternoon for my first hunt of the season. While I am so anxious to kill something, nothing has been greater reward than the relationship that hunting has created between my Heavenly Father, my earthly father and myself. Many times when I am on the stand, I spend it praying and talking with God about the things going on in my life and the lives of my loved ones. Being up in a tree in silence and watching His creation come to life in the early hours of the morning, there is nothing quite like it. Witnessing the season change from fall to winter and how nature changes with it, knowing that God created every season for a purpose. I know now that fall and winter were created for hunting! Ecclesiastes 3:3 "a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build" I have also spent more time with Daddy over the last few years bonding with him in a way that we'd never had before. I couldn't have asked for anything greater than that.
