It was hunting season, when I usually like to mix it up a little. Climb a tree in the morning; maybe spend the afternoon sitting behind some bushes... where ever my strategy or whim took me...
Several years ago I had carried an empty 5-gallon bucket out to the pasture. There was a tangled clump of small trees out in the middle offering a nearly 360 degree field of vision with a comfortable center void to hid within.
It was a productive location, and that bucket sat there for maybe 4 or 5 five seasons, never moving or being moved, waiting patiently every fall for one of us to return and make use of it's services once again...
Til two years ago when it wasn't there for me anymore. Nobody seemed to know anything about it, where it went, or had seen any signs of it.
It was just gone.
The other day I saw this picture of a deer captured with a trail camera. That's not exactly my bucket (mine didn't have yellow paint dripped down the sides), but the similarities to it are striking none the less.
FromOutdoor Life magazine, online edition.
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2 comments:
You can't trust deer. They'll pick your pocket and be gone before you can say, "Bambi."
WHOA!
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