A perfectly cool day; he and I walked easily to a hillside overlooking a dry creek bed. Walking down the familiar weedy path of that section of timber, refilled my heart with hope. We had bow hunted the same hillside once, before I knew squat how to maneuver a bow. However, a small branch caused my arrow to deflect from the doe— I missed. This time should go better.
We settled in the ground blind, both a bit happily on edge, anxiously waiting, listening for deer or turkey. Squirrels chattered and scrambled for nuts. A deer hunter also knows their alert 'screech' when a deer comes through. Could’ve swore I heard a buck grunt— damn it-- was my seat creakking.
An hour passed with all the normal woods’ noises. I lightly yelped for turkey. The second I did, a snort erupted behind us, hoofs bounded backwards! A deer had come close enough to the bush behind us, my call startled it! Never in all my days... I put the call away. SMH Now we were on alert again twiddling 'r thumbs. Both bows ready.
Getting on toward dusk, we both kept hearing deer in the timber— antler scraped a tree, a footfall on the slope out of view, maybe a short grunt. Just out of real hearing range to discern. I was getting impatient and a tired butt. I said in a soft whisper, " I smell shit— haha."
I shifted my weight, and caught sight of a deer. “Deer!” caught in my throat. A doe closing in, slowly coming across the dry clay dirt below us... She stepped through the creek bed, stopped, her head popped up. Saw the blind, head slid back and forth, her ears focused on us. We froze. I didn’t breathe. Chewing on a leaf, the doe lost interest in the blind. She resumed eating leaves as she stepped behind a tree, I raised my bow, got ready to draw, it continued slowly walking around the brush towards us, browsing. Panic rose in my chest. I trembled, I wanted to cry knowing she’d die with my arrow in her chest.
I sniffled, “I can’t” Ed whispered in my ear, “breathe”.
His urging calmed me to try harder.
I counted, she took 3 more steps out from behind the tree, at most 9 yards away, Ed whispered intensely, "draw". I did.
The doe stood still munching. And silent. I kept trying to aim. I didn’t have a clean shot from the window. It was awkward... my arm gave out. I relaxed the bow-- the broadhead grazed the vinyl like the whir of a zipper. She snorted, wheeled and leapt down the ravine, blowing her alert for a hundred yards into the empty timber.
I exhaled, shaking while my husband comforted me in my failed attempt. At very last glimmer of light, he caught sight of a deer far away walking through the trees. Upon dismantling the blind, we discovered we’d setup directly next to a deer trail... not the best spot to be. We stepped around the fresh deer poo...Lol
We vowed to return to it, with that intel. I’ve easily killed deer with a rifle and not flinched. A bow is primal and deadly but TV makes it look so easy. That adrenaline burst gave me a bad headache and that night I barely slept. The doe was an alert and beautiful animal. The Lord is teaching me some belated patience.
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