Hunting

Now what?

I rolled over and pulled the cover over my head to try to block out the sunlight that shines into my bedroom. Curtains and mini-blinds and yet the sun always finds a way through. It is almost as if I am slipping into a depression. There seems to be little reason to get out of bed. The yard needs mowing and there are at least 20 or so other menial tasks that need doing, but I just can’t shake this sadness. I haven’t slept hardly any in almost a month but never really felt tired until now. All at once, I am exhausted. My sadness is not a mystery. I know what is dragging me down it is just a matter of facing it, dealing with it and getting on with life or what’s left of it.
As of last week another turkey season passed into history. It is now approximately 11 months until I get to ease into the woods before dawn to listen to the serenade of those crimson headed crooners. It is an odd noise, the gobble. It is loud and strange. The first time I heard it, I must say I was not all that affected by it. It was exciting and all, but not the life changing melody it has become in recent years. Something about the first time the gobble was directed at me just flipped a switch in my soul. I remember thinking I could actually FEEL the adrenaline as it coursed through my body. The fact that I was “talking to” my prey and getting an answer, the instant gratification of knowing that he was “on his way” and the sinking heart every time he opened up the distance between us even just a little. I have never been the same.
The time has now come to push forward. So starting right now, I am going to force myself to get up. I am going to force myself to get a cup of coffee. I am going to force myself to get my gear out of the truck and stow it away until next time. I am going to force myself to trudge through life, one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. Starting today I will begin to live my “other” life again. The one where I have a wife, a child and responsibilities. I will accomplish this by performing menial tasks that my wife requests that I complete. I will do them one by one by one by one until, 11 months from now the spring woods come alive with the sweet, sweet sound of the gobbler and I shun all responsibility and good sense to chase them.