Monday, November 18, 2013

The Rapture...

This morning our pastor spoke on the Second Coming, also known as the Rapture...

A couple of weeks ago the doe and her twin fawns that have been hanging around our house disappeared. We haven't seen them since. There have been, however, several young bucks and a couple of mature does that feed along the pond every other day. At least three times I have had them in the crosshairs of my Winchester, Model 88, .308, but have yet to squeeze the trigger. That would have been unthinkable just a couple of years ago.

I like the taste of venison, and the stealth and care of quietly picking my way through the woods before first light to climb into a tree stand and wait for nature to awaken from sleep. From the same vantage point in the evening, I love watching the changing shadows as the sun sinks behind the tree line. I have taken my fair share of deer here in Georgia, but dropping a deer while seated around our fire pit in the backyard doesn't do it for me. By observation, we have patterned the locals to the point where we know when they are going to show up and from what direction they will arrive. They are like neighborhood deer, far too unsuspecting, and every bit as predictable as the arrival of the daily mail. Even now, as I watch them through my binoculars, I noticed that for some reason they are feeling edgy. Something has raised their protective instincts to a higher level of alertness.

Later this fall I may be going out into the backwoods of Alabama to hunt. There, the deer are wary and wild. We hunt with bows, take only mature stock, are in their untamed environment, and the deer hold nearly every advantage. If I don't make that trek it doesn't matter.


Our deer headed for deep cover. You won't believe what happened just minutes later! As I sat here typing I heard a bugle sound. We are surrounded by nearly two thousand acres of privately held land and a fox hunt is underway! In fact, a couple of long legged hounds, beige in color with wheaten patches, have their nose to the ground and are zig-zagging along the banks of the pond trying to pick up a scent. Out of my view, but in Sandy's, she told me that another thirty, nearly identical hounds, came bursting out of the underbrush. As I rushed to get my camera the bugle sounded once again, and in a blink they disappeared… like they had been called out in the Biblical Rapture!

Off in the distance a man's voice shouts out calling the dogs back to him. Makes you smile does it not?

We love this place!

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