The Day Takes a Turn
As I’m walking along the edge of a wintered field about to enter the woods, I hear three shots. My blaze-orange hat and bright blue fleece imply that I’m expecting gunshots to potentially play a part in this planned day in the woods. I’m not hard to spot on this first Friday of firearms deer hunting season. I trudge on aware now that I’ll be sharing the woods with bullets… and having to put trust in my fellow man. Then a second blast. Now I’m concerned, but maybe it was just the final blow to a wounded deer and the gun will remain silent. I stand and think for a few minutes. Then comes the sign: two more shots. Sounds like the civil war is going on in the woods, not just a simple deer killing. I don’t feel like being caught in the crossfire, so I retreat and start cursing. Two and a half hours of driving and only a quarter mile of trail walking. When my cursing ends, the day takes a nice turn. My geographi...