The chirping birds are a signal that spring has finally arrived in the North. The burbling sounds of the rapids have a calming effect as they soften my memories of the latest blizzard, hopefully the last until sometime in July. The rocks of old are showing themselves under the rushing waters of a small river. I wonder how long those rocks have been there… since time immemorial?
I recover from the mesmerizing spring sights and sounds as I remember that the rocks and gravel were only placed there last year. And, as every previous year, they get washed away in the annual spring flooding from the snow melt. Aarrgg!!
I guess it’s time to change tactics on how to get to the hunting spot in the shortest time possible. I turn my little CUV around and head to higher ground only to find the road to the hills is washed out too. So, it’s back to town to wait out the road repair job and do all those other chores I felt I didn’t have time for.
In the meantime, the geese fly by once in a while. It looks like the hunt is good so far, as the first flocks appear on the horizon and are within shooting range. Aaahh, the release of pressures from all the efforts to get out, either by plane, snowmobile (not recommended as the ice isn’t in as tip-top shape as it was in pre-global warming times), boat, ATV, or simply by walking. One by one, the devices die out in the glare of the sun. Earth is taking over.
Finally, the prodigal flock arrives, placing everyone on high alert. The silence is deafening, save for the sound of flapping wings and honking geese.
The flock lands and the novice hunters get the first shot. We veterans know the excitement of the first kill and the moment it happens is visible on everyone’s face as memories are relived. The first goose kill for that lucky child, now an adult in his or her own eyes.
I remember mine, killed with a three-shot bolt-action 20 gauge with the choke set on full. Yes, a memory for everyone for generations to come.
As the sun sets, the decoys are put away, only to be set up again the following morning before the sun rises and the beautiful cycle repeats itself. Slowly, life’s daily problems slip away from the tired bones of the elderly and youthful ambitions are regenerated. To get something done that will last in the freezer for the year – or years in our memories – during waking hours.
That means getting up before the sun rises and going to bed after the sun sets. In the spring, there’s not much time between sunset and sunrise, so sleep becomes precious. Some hunters dare to take a chance and snooze during those quiet moments in the afternoon. Nothing like the embarrassment of being rudely awakened by the sound of guns going off.
Back in the day, it was the time for getting stuff done, when nothing was flying close enough to be your supper that evening. The gathering of wood, fetching of water, repairing the dam on the goose pond, all the good things that kept you busy.
Remember that back in the day there was a real world to live in, not a virtual one catered to your passions. Nope, this world comes with sunburnt skin, scuffs and scrapes, sweat and swearing, but always with the reward at the end of the day – that being sleep, blessed sleep.
Good hunting this spring! Signing off from the real world….