While back at my office this afternoon working on building a successful technology company, I sometimes get a few moments to ponder things not so tech related. Setting up a computer or crunching design rule checks on a sensor or pcb layout, there are periods of waiting for the computer to do the tasks that it does best.
The morning routine today which happens to be mid war spring turkey season was a bit different. With the big storm that blew in last night, and out early morning I got to enjoy three luxurious hours of extra sleep. With no success the prior evening in roosting gobblers, I would opt to start the hunt mid-morning, and hoped that the later arrival in the turkey woods would coincide with the birds coming around and shaking off a bad night and of course start gobbling in earnest.
I would hook up with a long time hunting partner and go about the business of filling another New York spring season tag. We got in the woods before 9AM and the day had blossomed into a beautiful sunny day. As always we would chat about many things including recent events and what might be chewing at the back of our minds from time to time.
With my recent loss of my mother in-law in her battle with cancer, that conversation would be part of a slow progress along a big ridge. We would talk about who would handle our affairs when our time came, what was important to pass on and to whom. I would jokingly remark (in ways maybe more serious) that I would look out for him and his affairs but I would be teed off if he didn’t send at least another 100 gobblers to the “Gates of Forever Roost” before heading off to his own special place. Yes, even as mighty hunters we are painfully aware of our own fragile nature and mortality. That may come as a surprise to those who view us in a negative light for our love and passion of hunting.
In our quest each season, and as much as we love our great pastime, in practical terms, it’s about harvesting gobblers. From the bird’s point of view, not likely to be a favorable one. It is however our personal bond with the natural world that we come to appreciate it the way we do, and understand in a very deep and emotional way the cycle of things such as life and death. It is a perspective not gained by way of buying meat in a wrapped package at the grocery store.
One can be self-aware-close to their human existence, share the things that make us lifelong friends, and companions doing any number of favorite pastimes, activities. I would not claim what we do is better. For many of us, it is. I would submit to you, that despite the over the top marketing of hunting products, our sport of turkey hunting is not one of blood lust, or testosterone filled fantasies. It is in many ways closer to nature, and akin to the creations around us. As an outdoor writer I strive to bring my view of the turkey woods to print in such a way that you see as I do. I will flatly claim that I barely manage to bring a fraction of all the things I observe of my time in the turkey woods. In my quest to convey what I so love about turkey hunting, I can sometimes put you in the tree next to me, or at least cause you to remember a similar experience. In that I am sometimes successful, and will continue to hone my craft.
Today’s hunt was as relaxing as any meditation class one might take, and was as peaceful as my soul required today. We would hear gobbling untill almost noon, but they had plans other than granting ours. It was a morning of great friendship, great discussion of most serious matters, and as good a hunt that I had in recent memory.
I wish all of you days in the great turkey woods like the one I had today.
© 2014 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
RSS - Posts