Okiecruffler
September 11, 2007, 02:54 AM
Saturday morning found me sitting on an over turned 5 gallon bucket under a blackjack tree just south of a seasonal pond. A light rain was falling, all but destroying any chance of seeing dove, but sometimes it’s not about body counts. I took a deep breath of the cool damp air and remembered that the last time I sat under this tree was several years ago and on that day the morning air had already hit the 90’s with no sign of rain for months before or to come. Many things remained the same as that morning, the Stevens 311 of course. Many have come and gone over the years, but this one has been with me for over 20 years now. I know every line of the pressed checkering and it comes to my shoulder like we were separated at birth. It was loaded with the same load I’ve been using for almost as long as we’ve been together. It’s the last batch of #8/Red Dot I’ll load. Too easy and cheap to buy Winchester at the wally world anymore and the days of me running a couple of hundred rounds a weekend are behind me. Even the bucket’s the same I’ve had for years, snatched from the back of a Wendy’s after work, I didn’t think the smell of pickles would ever fade. I also use it as a seat when catfishing, so the pickle smell would be a welcome change at this point. It’s been the same tree for 14 years, I know it’s been 14 because I first sat under it the first year my wife and I were married. Doesn’t seem like that long ago, and yet at the same time it’s hard to remember a time without her.
But a lot has changed. The #1 son has grown up, he’s off on his own, expecting his first child, my first grandchild, in April. And the #2 son is growing like a weed, won’t be too many more seasons before he’s sitting under this tree with me. “Life is good, it’s hard, but good.” My grandfather told me that once, I didn’t understand then. This morning I understand.
The sun slowly came up. Just beyond the pond I could make out a decent buck, like a ghost among the trees. Season opens soon, he won’t be here then. I can hear squirrels barking at each other, probably cranky because of the rain. Finally, about an hour after sunup I see 2 dove, a pair coming in low and fast, really fast. In my years of absence I’d forgotten just how fast they really are. I shoot 2 feet behind the first and 6 feet behind the second while wondering why the first isn’t falling. I toughed out the rain for another couple of hours without seeing any more dove, but like I said, sometimes it isn’t about body counts.
But a lot has changed. The #1 son has grown up, he’s off on his own, expecting his first child, my first grandchild, in April. And the #2 son is growing like a weed, won’t be too many more seasons before he’s sitting under this tree with me. “Life is good, it’s hard, but good.” My grandfather told me that once, I didn’t understand then. This morning I understand.
The sun slowly came up. Just beyond the pond I could make out a decent buck, like a ghost among the trees. Season opens soon, he won’t be here then. I can hear squirrels barking at each other, probably cranky because of the rain. Finally, about an hour after sunup I see 2 dove, a pair coming in low and fast, really fast. In my years of absence I’d forgotten just how fast they really are. I shoot 2 feet behind the first and 6 feet behind the second while wondering why the first isn’t falling. I toughed out the rain for another couple of hours without seeing any more dove, but like I said, sometimes it isn’t about body counts.