An exercise in patience

It was good daylight now and the woods were ablaze with golden shafts of sunlight slanting through the canopy of majestic pines and towering hardwoods. This natural forest is beautiful and so starkly different from the more common monoculture of industrial pinelands.

My progress was slow and measured. I stepped carefully and quietly along the pine straw matted road. A scattering of dew-soaked hardwood leaves made just the slightest crunchy sound under my boots. I scanned the road ahead and the open woodlands to each side. I was hunting my way to the stand.

A dark shape caught my attention in an open lane of the big trees. It was a deer with it's head down. Instantly, I brought my rifle up and put the scope to my eye. It a was buck standing broadside, and he was looking in my direction now. I had the cross hairs on him but did not shoot.

I had slept in and waited on daylight. I love to hunt in the mornings and see the new day come. But, over the years I have spooked many deer walking to the stand in the dark. And, my patience is somewhat limited once I get to the stand. Two hours is about all I can do in a stand unless I am watching some kind of wildlife. It could be deer, turkeys, squirrels or just birds. This particular morning, I wanted to stay later, so I went later.

And patience is not just about sitting in a stand. I've come to realize that I have great patience when it comes to pulling the trigger. I've shot a lot of deer over the years, and some were big ones. Nowadays, I'm just not going to take one, unless it's a good one.

A friend asked me just the other day why I haven't shot a buck yet. Then he asked "what are you doing, just looking at them?" And I answered, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing." For me, waiting for a good one is an exercise in patience.

The buck that I was looking at on this morning hunt wheeled and bounded away. I got a better look at the antlers. It was a nice buck but not quite what I was looking for. The buck blew a series of high-pitched snorts as he bounded away through the forest. I thought it would ruin the area for a while, so I went on by the nearby stand to another location farther down the old logging road.

I had installed a ladder stand on a section of this old swamp road about a week earlier. There were scrapes and rubs all along this section of the road. I moved on down to this new stand. It was far enough away from the deer that I had startled, so I felt good about the spot.

The stand is on the uphill side of the road overlooking a vast swamp that lies on the downhill side. There was a soft cross wind from the northeast to the southwest. I was facing to the north. I know that it is late in the year, but I thought that the dominant buck that was cruising this area might respond to a challenge. I started with a couple of doe bleats, then added some buck grunts. After a few minutes I took my rattle box from my pack and went through a rattling sequence.

Nothing happened. It doesn't happen every time. You have to be patient and hold out for the one time that it does happen. When it does happen, you know it was worth the wait. The last buck I shot, nearly two years ago, was chasing a doe. It was a week before Christmas.

It was a beautiful morning, and I sat for a while, mostly daydreaming. Then something finally caught my attention. It was a soft, strange, musical sound that was out in the swamp. I wondered what it was, then I saw movement. I should have known that sound. Two big wild turkey gobblers were working their way through the underbrush. They were softly purring to each other, to keep in touch where the swampy cover was thick.

For me, that was worth the wait.