THE FACE OF THUNDER I realize a man can see a lot as he looks into a campfire, as long as he keeps an open mind, and is willing to accept the truth of compunction that pricks the mind like a needle. It’s odd how one can become emotionally attached to the land that a man farms and hunts. It’s late October and there are times when life seems little more than a matter of struggle and endurance, when difficulty and disappointment form a hardened crust around my heart … yet there is a place that is unprotected that beauty and greatness can always grow, as the leaves of yesterday fall from the winds of change. The gentle breeze gave new life to the dying embers of the campfire I had started several hours ago. Contemplation beside a campfire has a way of inducing much needed sleep for tomorrows hunt and adventure. I was hunting a farm that didn’t have any pressure. I camped in the hunter’s shanty to avoid the long drive in the wee hours of the morning. This remote farm has 110-acres, mostly cleared land with hardwoods up the middle of the property, with a dense 3-acre area of cedars clustered together just outside of the hardwoods. There is also a 3-acre lake, with a small pond situated on a point overlooking the fields. At first light, a frightened 10-pointer stepped out of the cedars, and hesitated. A gun shot went off in the distance. The buck busted loose from the cedars and made a dash for safety. He headed straight for my position when I noticed the left side of his rack was missing! This was one ugly buck! Certainly a fighter and definitely not a lover! I raised my arm and prepared my rifle for collision. This buck was running up hill as fast as his whitetail hoofs could go. He was closing in like a freight train, as I lay on the ground with my rifle and bi-pod. My bullet is about to go ballistic. Raising my arm probably kept me from getting trampled by the run away beast.It was “an exit stage left” when I got a better look at the buck’s best side, as he bounded from the confines of the open field. He was up and over the neighbor’s fence at full tilt, disappearing as he sped off for distant parts. The rest of the morning, my eyes slowly scanned the distant fence lines through my scope, looking for body parts of deer. I noticed the beauty in the wind and the woods that have brought the light that I have learned to trust and the breeze that blows through my beard. The sun begins to lower itself, as I begin to snack and plan the evening hunt. I breathe in the day’s fresh air and slowly exhale as I say a prayer. Wisdom grows and I learn to let the beauty of nature lead me to the presence of God. Though my discovery of God began in my spirit, for most of us it begins in the world outside of us. I back tracked on the ridge I was snacking on. It would take me to a point that drops down to a creek bed that leads to the lake. I often see does here at sundown. The other side of the creek goes straight up to the pond. I arrived and looked into the creek bed and spied a wide rack buck standing there. Feverishly, I sat down, took a deep breath and readied my gun for the buck to walk up the hill. Across the creek at eye level I saw movement from another deer. Then I saw the genetic giant! This giant walked parallel to the creek about 150 yards away. The tree between us still had foliage so my view was diminished. I grabbed my binoculars to examine the deer. When he stepped into view, I dropped the binoculars, grabbed my gun and placed my scope on him. Words dilute the essence of this magnificent, genetic giant that appeared just 147 yards away. This was the most muscular deer my eyes had ever seen, with proportions as massive as a body builder on steroids. Each side of his rack had five tines that were fourteen to eighteen inches long each. They were dark in color, thicker than a broomstick, symmetrically perfect, curving inward towards the top, with four inch tips that were the color of wheat. This buck had a twenty-five inch plus spread. I was in awe. His rack reminded me of a Native Indian’s headdress, a full eagle-feather warbonnet! He had to turn slightly in either direction for me to consider a shot. Cocking the hammer, he started to walk up to the pond. He turned to look back at the wide rack buck that was still standing in the creek. I had less than ten minutes of subdued light permeating through my scope. This creature mesmerized his captive audience by the sheer power of his presence. I squeezed the trigger. I squeezed harder as the report of the gun sounded off. I had missed the magnificent giant! Without a flinch, he turned to face the smoke that had produced the sound of thunder. I’ll never forget the vexation in his eyes as they penetrated my gaze. He ran up to the pond, hesitated and sprinted for the dam. Lo and behold, could it be that this genetic giant has a twin brother? Sure enough, his twin came out of hiding and followed his brother down the hill across the dam of the lake. They stumbled over each other as they made there way, never to be seen together again by these grateful eyes. I sit and I wonder sometimes what the genetic giant thought as he turned to view the source of thunder that he had heard many times before. This time was different, thunder had a face, and it was mine.

...it's easier to remove the fat on deer,because of the way they store it,it's lower in cholesterol,and it is not treated with steroids and other chemicals to enhance the growth and flavor of the meat. I love venison because it gives me a spirtitual purpose for "being" in the woods.It allows me to be still,a qualitatively different stillness,than just waiting. It requires me to be totally alert and awake,less I miss the Divine appointment with Mother Nature. Alert stillness is needed,as the harvest comes to fruition,and to become aware of God's created beauty,the majesty,the sacredness of nature,as He saw fit to create with His hands. I have laid on the ground and became awestruck,as I gazed into the infinity of space on a clear night,by the absolute stillness and inconceivable vastness of it. In my search for venison,I have stumbled into the beauty,of something that words diminish,something ineffable ...some deep,inner,holy sanctuary,that requires my presence. As I continue on,and go deeply into it,would I be able to find myself,and the holy essence of the deer sanctuary,if I were not in the pursuit of the stillness,that comes naturally,to the one in search of? My proof of pursuit,is my desire ... Find out for yourself! C'mon Out Monster!

Sounds like a winner ...thanks for sharing!

ranger2- Great questions and well said! I agree,but I did hear one protester encourage other people,to use your 2nd Ammendment right ...use it or lose it,don't take it for granted!