Not Much of a Hunter

(This post is going to be short. I’m at my fourth house in five days to write and upload my blog. My friends and family are probably ready for me to go back to Little Rock.)

I’ve never been much of a hunter. Most of the qualities hunting seemingly entails, like being aggressive or sneaky (maybe I just imagine that you need these), go against the nature of my personality. I like to be at peace with my surroundings. I know, I know: I don’t need a lecture about the pros or cons of hunting. I’ve heard it all before; the majority of my extended family consists of avid hunters and I have nothing against it. Moreover, I always enjoy when deer season rolls around because it means I get to spend time with my dad.

Growing up it wasn’t always that way. I looked forward to autumn for a different reason: it meant basketball season was near. While my dad spent his Saturday mornings in the deer woods, I was always practicing basketball, whether in the driveway or at school. Looking back I regret not spending more time in the woods with my dad. Basketball was never getting me anywhere in life; spending time with my dad should have been more important. That’s why when I visit my parents during hunting season now, I always make it a point to go hunting with my dad. That’s also why I bought my dad a trail camera for Father’s Day this year—something he’s always wanted but would never buy himself.

Tuesday night, after getting home from a 14-hour work day because of inventory, my dad asked me if I wanted to go check the trail cam. After long days at work, the only thing that helps my dad relax is being outside. Recently he said one of the reasons he stays sane is because he knows he can come home, sit in his recliner, and watch the cows and mules grazing in the pasture behind the back porch (after trying it on Wednesday, I have to say there’s something tranquil and relaxing about watching cows graze in  a pasture).

It didn’t take us long with an ATV to get through the cow pasture and into the woods—in less than five minutes we were climbing up and down dry creek banks in search of his ground blind. We didn’t see any deer on our way, but we heard a couple of turkeys gobbling. It was mostly an uneventful trip, but a few minutes I wouldn’t trade to play another season of basketball.

Once we got the trail camera back home, we scrolled through the pictures but there wasn't much to see. His feeder (you'll appreciate his homemade version) mostly attracted raccoons.

Besides that, we snagged one picture of what appears to be doe (look at the left side of the picture behind the feeder).

No matter how you feel about hunting (you ain’t gotta shoot anything if you don’t want to), I recommend that everyone spend a morning or evening hunting with his or her father (or mother for that matter). It’s not about trying to kill an animal—at least it never has been for me—but about escaping the noise of everyday life for a few hours.