The wind is blowing from the right direction this morning. I sit with my back against a white oak tree and watch as first light begins to show on the horizon. It is a cold, damp and a cloud-covered November morning. Knowing what to expect, I have dressed warmly for the occasion but sitting motionless eventually takes its toll on the hunter.
Earlier in the month I had fashioned a small blind out of gathered brush and dried vegetation, which now helps to conceal my location and occasional movement. It also affords some protection from the cold wind, which washes over me like a wave. My mind begins to wander. I think how good a shot of brandy might taste right now but I know that instead of warming the body it has the opposite effect. Instead, I thrust my hands deep into the pockets of my worn hunting coat and smile as I feel the warmth of the chemical hand-warmer packets.
It is getting lighter now and the creatures of the woods are beginning to stir. I am alert for the snap of a twig, a grunt or a snort. To my right and very close a sudden noise grabs my attention and my eyes scan the brush for movement. Instead of an eight-point buck, it is just a gray squirrel cutting acorns in the white oak branches above. Apparently my presence doesn't bother him and that is reassuring. The faint smell of wood smoke is in the air. I wonder if it is coming from a nearby deer camp or a cottage on the river. It makes me think of a hearty breakfast of pancakes and eggs fried in bacon grease.
Across my knees rests my dad's Winchester 94. I wonder how many deer the old lever-action 30-30 had put in the freezer during his many seasons in the woods. Prior to entering the timber, I had quietly pushed four cartridges into the magazine and cycled one into the chamber. Carefully I then eased the hammer forward, putting it in the safe position.
Hunting from a blind can become tiresome after what seems like hours of inactivity. It is difficult to stay alert and easy to start daydreaming. Scanning my field of view, I begin to wonder if I have set up in the right spot. Suddenly, where previously there was nothing, now stand a large doe and her young one! They haven't sensed my presence and seem content to browse on the ripe acorns and the few bits of available green vegetation. I anticipate that a buck might follow them into the clearing and I'm careful not to move or make a noise. My eyes slowly scan the woods wondering what will unfold, wondering from which direction he might enter the clearing.
Always alert for danger, the doe looks around and surveys her surroundings. I wonder if she hears or smells something that I cannot. She looks my way but never focuses on my location. I know she hasn't winded me or they would already be gone. The young one is not as alert to danger as the doe and seems satisfied to have found a source of food. I watch with fascination as they go about their morning routine as if I do not exist.
The buck I was expecting never materialized. Eventually the two eased out of the clearing as quietly as they had arrived. In a way, I am glad that I didn't have to make the life-and-death decision this morning. The sun is now shining brightly and its warmth feels good. The color of the few remaining leaves in the trees and those on the ground give the woods a postcard-quality look. A chickadee lands on the branch of a nearby pine and a woodpecker rapidly drums on a distant hollow tree. I pour a hot cup of coffee from my Thermos and sit awhile longer, just enjoying being out there.
Ed Hungness and his wife owned their cottage on Fife Lake for six years before moving there after his retirement in 2005. He can be reached at edhungness@yahoo.com. For more of Ed's columns, log on to record-eagle.com/edhungness.
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