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Nov 15, 2009
In the murky, purple-gray before dawn, he felt his way into the thicket. Every move was precise, every step calculated to make as little noise as possible. Wispy fog draped the brush that grew thick along the swamp's edge to his right. Ahead loomed the dark ridge where a tangled nest of brush and branches awaited him. He climbed to that higher ground and reached his deer blind.
Turning to the east, he saw the first streaks of angry orange moving up the horizon over the lake. He filled his lungs with the damp, chilled air. His hand ran along the length of his rifle, absently noting the safety was on. He lowered himself to the rickety, wooden chair he hoped would last another season and blew out a soft breath when it didn't creak beneath his weight. Flipping the covers off his scope, he drew the rifle up and squeezed one eye closed as he looked out over the swamp. It was too dark yet.
A light breeze toying with dried cattails murmured in the background. He waited. Angry orange gave way to pinkish light that danced off the dissipating fog. Behind him a bird called out its first greeting of the day. In front and to his left a small, black squirrel poked its head out from around a young, leafless oak tree. The day came to life around him. Sitting still, rifle relaxed but ready in his hands, his eyes roved the landscape. He watched and waited.
He heard a noise off to his right, just a rustle in the dry leaves that carpeted the ridge. The muscles along his back tightened. He breathed shallowly, ears straining to catch another sound. There was movement. His eyes could make out a vague shape through the thick forest brush, but nothing more. He waited. He listened. He hoped.
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1 comments:
That was a neat story about deer hunting. I could feel the rush! No, I'm not a hunter, but I have family members who are.
I'm so glad I found your blog. I'm a writer, but I also love sheep. I love the way they look, sheep analogies, I love the Good Shepherd!
I'll be back. I also invite you to visit my blog at writingtodistraction.blogspot.com
Blessings,
Carla
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