Back when I was 16 or so, I was doing my favorite fall afternoon thing, groundhog hunting. The farm I hunted was about a mile walk through the woods from my place. I was coming home at dusk when I entered a pasture a 1/4 mile from the house. I entered the pasture like I've done a 1000 times before, but this time was diferent, I seen someone riding a horse for all it was worth across that small piece of land. I could hear the hoofs hitting the ground, and I could see the breath coming from it's nostrils, it was real. I didn't think too much of it, I figured someone was trying to avoid a reaming for trespassing, I did't care, or did I know anyone with a horse.
Fast forward a year...
On a brisk late October morning I was sitting in a corner of that paster eyeing an old twisted cherry tree for a squirrel, it was the perfect time when the sun broke over the hill to melt the frost, and to warm a cold squirrel. As I scanned the limbs, something caught my eye, it took me a moment to realize what it was, it blended in with the color of the bark, but 20 feet up that tree there was an old rusty hourse shoe nailed to it. At that moment, I had an eerie feeling that I was being watched, I packed up and moved to a different part of the woods, and I haven't hunted that pasture since.
Fast forward a year...
On a brisk late October morning I was sitting in a corner of that paster eyeing an old twisted cherry tree for a squirrel, it was the perfect time when the sun broke over the hill to melt the frost, and to warm a cold squirrel. As I scanned the limbs, something caught my eye, it took me a moment to realize what it was, it blended in with the color of the bark, but 20 feet up that tree there was an old rusty hourse shoe nailed to it. At that moment, I had an eerie feeling that I was being watched, I packed up and moved to a different part of the woods, and I haven't hunted that pasture since.
