It seems there's a ton of things to do around here that aren't getting done, but that doesn't mean I couldn't go hunting. Those less important things could wait.
The farmer said there was at least one buck in the far field most evenings. He took a picture with his cell phone and sent it to me, but the deer appears only as a speck in the distance. I believed him anyhow.
Last Thursday evening the wind was right. A little gusty for my liking and out of the SW. I climbed into the stand for the first time this year, happy to find the racoons had not dumped on it this time. It felt good to be back. From 4 'till 6 I just relaxed and swayed a little in the breeze, waiting, enjoying the surroundings.
As hoped, things settled down before sunset and lo and behold, the farmer was right!! Out from my left plodded a decent buck. Dang, I thought, will he make it all the way over here? He still had 30 yards to poke around before he would be in range.
That's the hard part. My heart still pounds and my breathing quickens when a deer is close, even more so when he picks you out and stares, which he did. He was more looking at my feet than my face, but I averted my gaze anyhow. I felt my shaking would give me away.
Somehow he detected no immediate danger and sniffed his way closer. Don't know if he was whiffing me, food or something else, but he was tense. When he stopped and stomped it was too late. The arrow was on it's way. At 27 yards I tucked it in behind his elbow. I watched him rocket out of there for 9 bounds across the field, then drop in this tracks. No need to rush, so I sat, smiled, and gave thanks to the Powers that Be, for the blessings I had received.
Not to shabby for the first hunt of the season.
Maple
great deer,and shot too.
Congratulations 
