Setterman
Well-Known Member
Sitting here this evening have a cold one and realizing that in one week another turkey season will be gone. I'll miss the cool mornings, warm sun after one of those mornings, sweet smells of a mountain spring, and most of all the game.
There are many hours of boredom, frustration, excitement, and peace in the turkey woods. I'll miss them all next Sunday evening.
I'll miss the googan encounters.
I'll miss the early morning traffic and running red lights on Kingston pike because I can't wait any longer.
I'll miss my morning dump being on a mountain side.
I'll miss messing with chunks of shale looking for the perfect imprint of a fossilized fern, to give to my mother as I have every Mother's Day for a long time
I'll miss that first gobble of the day.
I'll miss the contemplation of how to set up, how to move, when to move, when not to move.
I'll miss getting back to the truck and thinking, what's wrong with these stupid birds.
I'll miss the satisfaction of toting 20 pounds of the greatest creature I've ever hunted on my back.
I'll miss the pure exhaustion of climbing on all fours to reach and a good listening spot for 30 minutes.
Most of all I'll miss the stories from my buds, and the laughter over our screw ups.
This is a privilege to experience this sport. I'll miss all of it.
How about y'all? What will you miss next week?
There are many hours of boredom, frustration, excitement, and peace in the turkey woods. I'll miss them all next Sunday evening.
I'll miss the googan encounters.
I'll miss the early morning traffic and running red lights on Kingston pike because I can't wait any longer.
I'll miss my morning dump being on a mountain side.
I'll miss messing with chunks of shale looking for the perfect imprint of a fossilized fern, to give to my mother as I have every Mother's Day for a long time
I'll miss that first gobble of the day.
I'll miss the contemplation of how to set up, how to move, when to move, when not to move.
I'll miss getting back to the truck and thinking, what's wrong with these stupid birds.
I'll miss the satisfaction of toting 20 pounds of the greatest creature I've ever hunted on my back.
I'll miss the pure exhaustion of climbing on all fours to reach and a good listening spot for 30 minutes.
Most of all I'll miss the stories from my buds, and the laughter over our screw ups.
This is a privilege to experience this sport. I'll miss all of it.
How about y'all? What will you miss next week?