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Autumns Bounty


The unmistakable aroma of fresh earth infiltrates the senses. The essence of once green life , returning to the rich soil that once harbored it. Fiery hues of crimson and orange that masterfully stroke the woodland canvas. The morning mist rising from the depths of the valley below. A twitching tail betrays the mornings first arrival. The young forkhorn weaves a serpentine path through the serene stillness. Fattened by the fruit of the majestic white oaks, I can’t help but wonder if he may be next years quarry? Like any curious teen, he nonchalantly visits the scrape, unaware of the potential danger above!!

The morning sun peeks ever so slightly over the eastern ridge. The first rays casting a golden hue on the setting below. A nervous Nuthatch shows a rare determination in inspecting every nook and cranny in the weathered Locust. A sudden commotion in the dry leaves causes the heart to race, only to reveal two bushytails competing for acorns in anticipation of Old Man Winters annual return. The boisterous calls of the Blue Jay scold an unseen intruder as the woodland symphony reaches its crescendo. The small hollow is alive with Natures gifts that so routinely go unnoticed.

Movement from the grapes catches the eye. Soon a white patch materializes from the tangles. A cautious old Momma is testing the wind, nostrils flaring as she surveys the scene. A pair of youngsters bring up the rear, mimicking moms every step. Content that the coast is clear, the trio goes about its business of feasting on its breakfast buffet. A lot can be learned by no more than watching , an observant student is ahead of the game.

As the warmth of the sun infiltrates the shadows an immature Maple shakes violently in the distance. A glimpse of bone quickly identifies its attacker. In a testosterone induced rage, the handsome buck decimates the young sapling. Satisfied with his performance, he heads for the scrape. Upper lip curled he draws in the array of scents that litter the bare earth. Looking skyward, he leaves his own calling card just as the bows limbs begin to arch.

In an instant its over. A dizzying rush of adrenaline and emotion overtake the moment. Once white feathers are forever stained, burning red against the forest floor. The trail is thankfully short and soon many thanks are given. A deep, spiritual journey has run it s course, an unmistakable thirst has been quenched. Once more, Autumns bounty has been claimed!!


<span style="color: #FF0000">Good luck to all my fellow “predators” this season, be safe and shoot straight!!</span>


Bonz
10-2-09


 

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Wow---beautifully written---thank you
 

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A refreshing read! I anticipate observing the days unfold in the fall woods!
 
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