SOUTH OF CLINTON
Deepwater 2013, opening day deer rifle season I had tracked a doe that finally caught scent of me. She threw that fluffy white flag up and bounded into the timber just as I jerked my rifle to my face to shoot. Shielded from view I sat for two hours on a huge flat oak stump watching the tree line for the doe to come back out to feed. I was very comfortable in my short sleeves, happy to feel the light breeze in my hair and listen to the bluejays "caw caw" in the locust tree behind me. I raised my binoculars trying to focus on a Red-tail hawk in flight's screech just before it swooped to the ground to snatch a mouse out of the tall grass. The calm of the afternoon enveloped me; that solitude every hunter's dream as I watched the clouds float across the sky with childlike wonder. My husband joined me at the stump. Foxtail with an amber glow under the late afternoon sun - the soybean field bordered the trees. Darkness at Sunset By last