The day started with a bang. Literally. Loud. Close by. Early.
It was the first day of deer season, and there are those who take hunting very seriously. There have been trucks parked up and down our road for weeks, men with orange hats and guns [bird season comes in October] scoping out the area. There are rules about starting after sunrise and ending by sunset. Those times are sacred. No matter the weather or how dark it is, it's the official start and end times that matter.
Ken used to hunt, as a kid in Maryland and later when we first moved to Maine. Then we had children, and none of them wanted anything to do with hunting. Ken lost interest in going out on cold and/or wet mornings on the off chance he might bag a deer. The one year he got one we ate well all winter. If you are fortunate enough to get a deer, you don't waste the meat.
Now we live right in the middle of prime hunting territory. There are rules about how far hunters have to stay from houses and roads. Private property is a gray area; our land isn't officially "posted" though I put up No Trespassing signs. I've not seen hunters near the house, but I wear a red hat when I'm outside.
It's hard for me to think about the fate of animals that eat our acorns and sleep in our leaves when the weather gets cold. I like having deer in the yard, even if they do eat my hostas.
We need to get through November. Then we can all peacefully co-exist until next year.
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2 comments:
Oh
how I hate to hear the gunshots in
my woods.
Woods that are filled with deer.
It is posted
but no attention is paid to my signs.
A past of family that hunted
but at this time in my life
and much of my past
I do not like hunting season.
I don't like hunting. I just don't see the need for it in this day and age and I don't see the sport in it either. My dad was a hunter and we had moose meat in our house. It was one of the things we never saw eye to eye on. I'd rather shot animals with my camera.
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