Lew, Donnie and Carson, bow season October 2011
Hunting in the woods, per se, is not an activity that I choose to partake. If it’s hunting for a great pair of shoes in a unique boutique, or wading through a flea market or yard sale for a really great piece of discarded furniture to refinish, well, then, that’s my kind of hunting. However, I do recognize and appreciate the deep-rooted connection to the past and nature that the act of hunting evokes for those who do. Lew, my husband, is one such soul.
Once, we were a hunter-gather society. Today, we rely on a commercially raised and grown food supply. For many in this country, this dependence is a necessity.
For Lew, hunting season is not only a time to “hunt & gather” and be less dependent, it is also a time to step into the woods: to observe nature and the land; to center himself in quiet solitude, and to practice patience. And, if providence allows, he’ll return with a deer or turkey for our freezer.
Someday, I’ll venture out with Lew and sit in the tree stand with him as daybreaks—not to “shoot” anything with a bow & arrow or rifle, but with my camera. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a great shot of an acorn-munching squirrel or the family of bobcats that have been spotted. Or, I’ll just sit quietly and reflect on the beauty of the woods and think about what I’ll cook for dinner…albeit, it may have a bar code as I refuse to eat the deer or turkey that he shoots. Sorry Lew, I’m just not the squaw you once imagined you’d marry!
*Squirrel photo downloaded from Microsoft images
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