The Last Hunt
(No Deer assumed room temperature in the writing of this blog, ladies.)
Barnabas wanted to take John, called Mark, along with them also.
But Paul kept insisting that they should not take him along who had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not gone with them to the work.
And there occurred such a sharp disagreement that they separated from one another, and Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed away to Cyprus. Acts 15:36-39
Jan. 31, 2009, the last day of deer season in Alabama. I didn’t hunt much this year so I figured I better log a little time in the stand so I would at least be able to tell a few lies to my macho friends. I decided to hunt in the stand just beyond the pond as it had been a fruitful location for others this season. I barely wheeled my truck through the barn gate near the gathering of cows young and old, when I spied a huge deer in the small pasture just beyond my folk’s home.
“I am just not seeing this, wow, what an opportunity," I thought. There would be no way I could slink out of my truck, load my trusty Marlin 30/30 and get off a shot. But that didn’t stop me from trying. I could not believe my luck, as I accomplished everything I needed to do, even to the point of propping my rifle on the door of my mud covered pickup.
“This is just too easy," I thought as I let out that final long breath before a trigger pull. I was right about that. The view in the crosshairs of my scope changed in the blink of an eye and I saw a white tail waving like a flag, bounding through the pasture into the hardwoods and pines.
What an opportunity alright, a missed one. I suppose it is a matter of perspective though: missed for me, great for the deer. Years ago I would have fretted over this for the rest of the day. On this day, I simply grinned, unloaded my gun, put in a few hours at the deer stand (with no luck) and began to think about the magnetic pull of our pond, as fishing has always been my passion.
It was a warm day for the end of January, and I knew the month of February brings out the big bass, gorging themselves before the spring spawn. I traded my rifle for a rod, was tempted by the hammock, but continued on my quest of conquering some form of wildlife.
What I saw next conquered me. A slight breeze hovered over the pond, rippling the water ever so slightly. The globe we inhabit rotated into a position with our friend the sun to provide a dazzling light show that no Independence Day celebration could match…as this one took place under the midday solar warmth of our mild winters in Alabama. Flickering, blazing, coins of silver skipped in synchronized beauty with the arid breeze and the olive ripples of the pond. No fish on this day... I dropped my rod, sat down on the dam and enjoyed the fireworks show. I pondered the days of my youth, days of woodsy solitude, days of simple reflection. Thankfulness to God for this present moment of peace. Opportunity found.
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