Changing of the seasons evident | Getting Out | leadertelegram.com – Leader-Telegram

So this is where I shifted gears, where I threw off autumn like the maples and birches let loose of their leaves. I reluctantly let go of autumn; I cant tell you if the trees did, but I do know they are used to the program. Seems I never get used to it, but its best to move on. Seasons do, and they always come back around.

I was sitting on snowless ground against a huge five-trunk maple, staring into a shallow gully on the final day of the deer gun season when I moved to the state of winter. The wind was gusting from the northwest, but I had positioned myself near the east fence line, so most of the wind was above me, rubbing bare branches against each other. They creaked like boards in a scary movie.

Two fawns came by for my third encounter with them during the season. We played the game again. The inquisitive fawns came close to investigate. This time I was determined to win the stare down, and I did. After several minutes they shot up a white flag and scampered away. Though not far away, only to stand and look back.

In my field of vision I counted five butternut trees crashed to the ground and rotting, victims of butternut canker, I assumed. I thought of all the butternuts this woodlot once produced. I wondered if the squirrels also remember. Maybe some do, considering their life span is 6 to 12 years if they make it through that vulnerable first year in the wild.

I hunted until closing time 4:44 p.m. on this last Sunday in November. I went back to the woods a few days later for firewood, which I had hunted and noted at the same time I hunted deer. As I drove to the woods I knew this might be the last day to take the field road that hugs the ravine. Snow will come. Winter will have its way.

If fall was falling away, so be it. I had already shifted gears when my wait for deer slipped into a reverie of the wildflowers, drumming grouse and bluebird arrivals of spring; butterflies, fawns and the mystery of the forest in summer: turkeys parading their poults, and trees showing off their colors in autumn. Here I had seen it all, felt it all.

At the end of this firewood gathering day I lit a match to paper and branches in the fire ring. There was no other reason other than to enjoy watching flames in the gathering dusk. The fire wasnt built for endurance and was soon dying out as the first stars and planets were coming out. As I left, fading smoke curled into the chilly night air.

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Changing of the seasons evident | Getting Out | leadertelegram.com - Leader-Telegram

Reviewed and Recommended by Erik Baquero