Shades of gray

The forest was dark around me as I walked slowly up the faint woodland road an hour before daylight. It was cloudy, and there was no moon. I had a pen light in my pocket but didn't want to use it unless I had to. As I approached my stand site, I could see the big pine that stands close to the road. My path leaves the road here, but I couldn't yet see it clearly in the veil of darkness.

I stopped and studied the ground for a few moments, then stepped carefully into the soft bed of pine needles and hardwood leaves that covered the floor of this mature timberland. The ground was damp, and my progress along the path was slow and quiet. I noticed that the woods around me were cloaked in shades of gray. There was no color in the darkness.

At the stand, a little puff of white powder from my wind checker confirmed to me that the direction of the soft breeze was good. The metal ladder was damp and cool to the touch. I climbed up, settled into the comfortable chair and considered my surroundings. I noticed that the sky had changed from a dark charcoal color to a lighter shade of gray. Some details were now beginning to appear in the canopy around me.

The individual tree trunks were coming into focus, and the leaflets that had appeared as a dark mass were now seen as groups of different shapes and sizes of leaves. Still there was no color in the woods. Everything was in different shades of gray. I knew that the light would soon bring color.

My phone had dinged at 5:24 a.m. signaling a text just as I was leaving the house. It was Shannon. We have stands in the same general area of the club, and he was letting me know that he would be hunting his Wedgefield property this morning because he would need to leave early before the rain started. I was also hoping the rain would hold off for a while.

Now, sitting in the stand, I had forgotten about the rain that was coming. The only thing that concerned me now was the coming daylight. I could hear owls in the distance. They weren't hooting, only cooing softly to each other. As the light increased, a few birds called in the understory. More details evolved around me in the woods. The day would come slowly under the heavy cloud cover.

If I squinted my eyes now and imagined it, I could see some green in the leaves. No, there was color. The light had managed to push back some of the darkness. There was color in the leaves of the canopy and understory. The leafy ground was turning a coppery shade of brown with some yellows sprinkled in. The grays were leaving or only lurking in the shadows now.

My phone dinged with another text. It was Shannon. His text read, "I got a big one." It was 7:34 a.m. I answered, "Very good, send me a picture when you can." He answered, "Okay, the doe got him." The doe got him, I wondered? There must have been a doe that caused the big buck to let his guard down. In a few minutes, I got the picture. It was a big one.

I had not yet seen a deer, only squirrels and birds. A very slight rustle in the leaves to my front caught my attention. When I looked in the direction of the sound, I was surprised to see a big deer at about 30 yards walking straight toward the stand. It was a doe. Her mouth was open, and her tongue was hanging out. She stopped at a trail that crossed in front of the stand and put her head down to check for scent. Then she put her head up and walked straight on toward the stand.

The doe stopped about 10 feet from the ladder and looked straight up at me. I had put my head down to avoid any eye contact. She simply turned around and walked back to the trail and stopped. I noticed that her sides were heaving, and a long strand of slobber was hanging from her open mouth. Something had been chasing her. Maybe it was a buck!

I had my phone in my hand, and it only occurred to me now to take a picture. I certainly wasn't going to shoot this deer as I suspected a buck had been chasing her. As she started to walk away, I snapped a picture. The shutter noise from the phone alerted her, and she loped off through the woods.

I sat there for another hour and 45 minutes. No buck came along. I left the woods before the rain came.

Reach Dan Geddings at cdgeddings@gmail.com.