Walking Wounded

Saturday was the first day of deer season 2021 and as usual, my first hunt was a real bust. I was in my tree stand by 7 AM. Everything was still. A stiff breeze stirred surrounding leaves still clinging to the oaks and beech trees. The few maple trees were completely bare, only stark silhouettes with nude limbs were facing an oncoming winter. The scenery was with hues of a wide variety; gray trunks and shades of brown leaves filled my sight. A scant layer of snow and icy pellets spread across the thick leaf carpet sheltered beneath winter’s canopy. A few rotting moss covered stumps rose above the thick growth of brown weeds and still green ferns.

The chilling wind soon stung my face. My other cheeks that were sitting on a thick blue pad were quite warm. The cold wind crossed an overgrown field of tall grass, briars, and small saplings. Below me stretched an abandoned tram logging road. I even had a good view of a nearby hayfield. I climbed down from the tree stand when I became too cold to sit still any longer, deciding to walk to another tree stand farther into the woods. As I climbed down, my foot slipped and I lost my balance. Instead of allowing myself to fall backwards and possibly hitting my head, I decided to jump the remaining four feet. That doesn’t sound very far, but landing on a rocky frozen ground isn’t a picnic. I didn’t remain on my feet, but bottomed out. I also managed to re-injure my strained wrist.

Picking myself up out of the snow, I limped toward the second tree stand. Along the way, I almost had a second accident. It necessitated that I drop my drawers and create a poop-sicle decorated tree branch. Clothing adjusted, I moved on to the second tree stand. It was higher than the first and with my confidence flagging; I chose to sit at its base. I was protected from the wind, but with a lack of movement other than a cheeky gray squirrel, I decided to head for home and to take some medicine for my headache. It appeared after the jolt from my fall.