"An Open Letter to My Son, From a Deer Stand"
My Beloved Son,
As you and I sit here in this two-man ladder stand overlooking a well-trafficked grid of bush-hogged shooting lanes below, I feel moved to write down some of my thoughts about the kind of hunter – and man – that I hope you will become, should you choose to continue hunting once you’re old enough to do it on your own.
First and foremost, I love you. Neither these words, nor any that I may come up with, will ever adequately capture or do justice to the depths of my love and pride for you.
When your mother and I learned that we were having a boy – almost ten years ago now, amazingly enough – I was understandably ecstatic. From that moment there in the ultrasound room, I began fantasizing about all the adventures I hoped we’d share. I prayed to God that you’d be healthy – ten fingers; ten toes – and then I prayed that you and I would have the kind of loving, respectful relationship that allows parent and child to enjoy spending time together without letting the necessary lines between parent and child to get too blurred by friendship. I am proud to say that I think you and I are doing pretty well in that department so far. Hunting and spending time outdoors together are two of the great rewards of such a relationship. One of my great hopes is that you will grow into a lifelong and ethical hunter who believes in conservation and gives back to the outdoors.
I have been taking you to the woods with me since you were a year old. You walked for the first time at a close friend’s hunting camp. Heck, when you were still in your mother’s tummy I was reading you Gene Hill stories, just to get a head-start on the debased culture into which you were being born.
You are eight years old now, and will turn nine in about six weeks. You are a fine shot with a BB gun and a .22, although, admittedly, I should do a better job of getting you to the shooting range. You have become the finest pick-up man to ever race across a Southern dove field (of course, your sisters are coming of age, too, so we’ll see how well they follow in Brother’s footsteps!). Last spring, you went turkey hunting with me for the first time. I must say, you showed great patience and enthusiasm for a young boy who heard, but didn’t see, any gobblers. You are ready to harvest your first deer. One might even call you overanxious to do so. Frequently this season you have asked me, “Daddy, how come when we hunt together we never see anything? I’m never going to get a deer!” Son, all I can say is that you need to keep at it and be patient. There’s an old saying that hunters use when they come out of the woods empty-handed: “That’s why they call it hunting, and not killing.” That old adage is true, so don’t ever forget it. And, as long as I am around and able, and as long as you show an interest, I will take you hunting, don’t worry. Someday, when I am too old and feeble to hunt on my own, I hope that you will return the favor.
Any time you’re hunting, take joy from just being there. Don’t fret over what and how many. Learn to love being there when the woods wake up in the morning. Enjoy sunsets; savor sunrises. Teach yourself different birds and their songs. Learn to identify the trees. Look for tracks as you travel down woods roads. Learn animal droppings, for they reveal much to the hunter.
Don’t tear up the woods and the roads by joyriding on four-wheelers, especially at night. Give the woods and the deer and the birds a chance to rest.
You will miss. The longer you hunt, the greater your chances of missing. It will happen, so don’t beat yourself up over it when it does. I have missed. Even the pros on the hunting shows miss (they just edit it out!). Prepare yourself now for the fact that you will shoot at a turkey that’s too close, and your pattern won’t have time to open up before it zings past his head. You will shoot over, under and behind deer. And, as you can already tell, doves on the wing are quite hard to bring down; lead them more than you think you need to, keep both eyes open, aim low, and follow through.
Take up spring turkey hunting and stay at it until you’re proficient. I don’t have to tell you how much I love and prefer turkey hunting. It will make you a better woodsman and a better all-around hunter, no matter what the season. Above all, be patient. Shotguns and turkey loads don’t kill gobblers; patience does.
Don’t ever pour out corn and hunt deer or turkeys over it. I don’t care that it’s legal in some states. It’s not the right thing to do, and it isn’t sporting. With today’s modern weaponry, camo, scent suppressants, and other high-tech hunting gadgets, we have enough of an advantage as it is. Don’t cheat yourself and your game by baiting it up. When it comes to turkeys, the decoy question I leave to you, and I will respect your choice. I choose to not use them.
Pick up your feet when you walk through the woods. Don’t trudge or drag your feet. Watch out for toe-grabbers and remember that they will pop the tires on the golf cart.
Always wear your hunter-orange hat and vest until you get up your tree, and put them on again as soon as you get down. Speaking of trees, always wear a fall-arrest device or climbing vest when you climb; going up and coming down. Someday I will tell you about my tree climber falling out from under me when I was twenty-five feet up a tree.
Don’t ever shoot a turkey out of a tree. If you find one roosting and you can’t call it to you fairly, move on. Don’t ever shoot one with a rifle or out of a shooting house, either. And unless you’re trying to take a gobbler with a bow, don’t use pop-up blinds after you’re old enough to hunt them on your own. Learn to properly set up on turkeys, to sit still, and to kill them the right way.
Never walk through the woods with a loaded deer rifle. If you were to trip or step in a stump hole, it could go off. Never climb a ladder or use a tree climber while toting a loaded weapon, either. Instead, use a pull-up rope to raise and lower your gun to and from the ground.
Watch for snakes when you’re turkey hunting. Never sit down to a turkey without checking all around the tree for a coiled-up snake. Learn to identify snakes and to distinguish venomous snakes from harmless ones. Even snakes serve a purpose, so don’t kill any that you don’t have to.
Coyotes are more scared of you than you are of them. Learn to appreciate their music.
Don’t kill things like turtles or songbirds just for target practice. A lot of your friends will do this, especially in high school and college. Nothing says that you have to, though. Shoot a paper target or a coke can instead.
Hunters are oftentimes their own worst enemy. Don’t turn an increasingly anti-hunting world against us even more by doing stupid things like killing non-game animals or leaving a deer carcass on the side of the road. Don’t ever trespass. Any time you see painted lines on a tree, turn around and go back.
Always call your mother when you get to camp.
Be a conservationist, not just a hunter. Give back, don’t just take. Join, support and get involved in organizations like the National Wild Turkey Federation, Ducks Unlimited, and the Alabama Wildlife Federation.
When you’re old enough, vote your sport and encourage your friends to do the same. I only hope that when you’re my age you’ll still be able to keep and bear arms and freely enjoy the hunting sports.
Never kill an animal that you’re either not going to eat or give to someone who will. If you don’t feel like cleaning it, let it walk. Donate a doe or two to a mission or homeless shelter, especially around Thanksgiving and Christmas. When you prepare wild game, remember that it will cook very quickly, so don’t ruin a good backstrap or duck or pheasant or turkey breast by overcooking it.
When you’re tired of sitting and you’re certain that you’re not going to see anything, give it another half-hour.
Invest at least as much in your scope as you do in your rifle, especially the ones you inherit from me.
Any time you find a facemask or a pair of gloves or a turkey vest that you really like, buy two of them. For whatever reason, they always stop making your favorite hunting stuff right before you need to replace it. Never fails.
Always praise God and thank Him for His wondrous creation, and for the freedom to enjoy it.
Finally, know that at this moment, as you and I sit and listen to the birds sing, and hear the distant reports of duck guns out on the Tensaw, I feel more humble and fulfilled than at any other time in my life, because you are here with me.
A little while ago, you climbed down to get a bottled water from the truck, which is parked close by. As I watched you walk down the trail away from our stand toward the truck, your bright orange outline getting smaller and smaller with each brave little step, I was so thankful that the dreams I first had in that ultrasound room have come true. You looked back at me every so often, just to make sure that I was still there. Eventually, when you got a ways down the trail, you looked back but couldn’t see me anymore. But that’s okay. Life’s going to be like that. Just know this, and carry it with you for the rest of your days:
Even if you can’t see me when you turn around and look back, I will always be there.
Love,
Daddy
January 6, 2013
As you and I sit here in this two-man ladder stand overlooking a well-trafficked grid of bush-hogged shooting lanes below, I feel moved to write down some of my thoughts about the kind of hunter – and man – that I hope you will become, should you choose to continue hunting once you’re old enough to do it on your own.
First and foremost, I love you. Neither these words, nor any that I may come up with, will ever adequately capture or do justice to the depths of my love and pride for you.
When your mother and I learned that we were having a boy – almost ten years ago now, amazingly enough – I was understandably ecstatic. From that moment there in the ultrasound room, I began fantasizing about all the adventures I hoped we’d share. I prayed to God that you’d be healthy – ten fingers; ten toes – and then I prayed that you and I would have the kind of loving, respectful relationship that allows parent and child to enjoy spending time together without letting the necessary lines between parent and child to get too blurred by friendship. I am proud to say that I think you and I are doing pretty well in that department so far. Hunting and spending time outdoors together are two of the great rewards of such a relationship. One of my great hopes is that you will grow into a lifelong and ethical hunter who believes in conservation and gives back to the outdoors.
I have been taking you to the woods with me since you were a year old. You walked for the first time at a close friend’s hunting camp. Heck, when you were still in your mother’s tummy I was reading you Gene Hill stories, just to get a head-start on the debased culture into which you were being born.
You are eight years old now, and will turn nine in about six weeks. You are a fine shot with a BB gun and a .22, although, admittedly, I should do a better job of getting you to the shooting range. You have become the finest pick-up man to ever race across a Southern dove field (of course, your sisters are coming of age, too, so we’ll see how well they follow in Brother’s footsteps!). Last spring, you went turkey hunting with me for the first time. I must say, you showed great patience and enthusiasm for a young boy who heard, but didn’t see, any gobblers. You are ready to harvest your first deer. One might even call you overanxious to do so. Frequently this season you have asked me, “Daddy, how come when we hunt together we never see anything? I’m never going to get a deer!” Son, all I can say is that you need to keep at it and be patient. There’s an old saying that hunters use when they come out of the woods empty-handed: “That’s why they call it hunting, and not killing.” That old adage is true, so don’t ever forget it. And, as long as I am around and able, and as long as you show an interest, I will take you hunting, don’t worry. Someday, when I am too old and feeble to hunt on my own, I hope that you will return the favor.
Any time you’re hunting, take joy from just being there. Don’t fret over what and how many. Learn to love being there when the woods wake up in the morning. Enjoy sunsets; savor sunrises. Teach yourself different birds and their songs. Learn to identify the trees. Look for tracks as you travel down woods roads. Learn animal droppings, for they reveal much to the hunter.
Don’t tear up the woods and the roads by joyriding on four-wheelers, especially at night. Give the woods and the deer and the birds a chance to rest.
You will miss. The longer you hunt, the greater your chances of missing. It will happen, so don’t beat yourself up over it when it does. I have missed. Even the pros on the hunting shows miss (they just edit it out!). Prepare yourself now for the fact that you will shoot at a turkey that’s too close, and your pattern won’t have time to open up before it zings past his head. You will shoot over, under and behind deer. And, as you can already tell, doves on the wing are quite hard to bring down; lead them more than you think you need to, keep both eyes open, aim low, and follow through.
Take up spring turkey hunting and stay at it until you’re proficient. I don’t have to tell you how much I love and prefer turkey hunting. It will make you a better woodsman and a better all-around hunter, no matter what the season. Above all, be patient. Shotguns and turkey loads don’t kill gobblers; patience does.
Don’t ever pour out corn and hunt deer or turkeys over it. I don’t care that it’s legal in some states. It’s not the right thing to do, and it isn’t sporting. With today’s modern weaponry, camo, scent suppressants, and other high-tech hunting gadgets, we have enough of an advantage as it is. Don’t cheat yourself and your game by baiting it up. When it comes to turkeys, the decoy question I leave to you, and I will respect your choice. I choose to not use them.
Pick up your feet when you walk through the woods. Don’t trudge or drag your feet. Watch out for toe-grabbers and remember that they will pop the tires on the golf cart.
Always wear your hunter-orange hat and vest until you get up your tree, and put them on again as soon as you get down. Speaking of trees, always wear a fall-arrest device or climbing vest when you climb; going up and coming down. Someday I will tell you about my tree climber falling out from under me when I was twenty-five feet up a tree.
Don’t ever shoot a turkey out of a tree. If you find one roosting and you can’t call it to you fairly, move on. Don’t ever shoot one with a rifle or out of a shooting house, either. And unless you’re trying to take a gobbler with a bow, don’t use pop-up blinds after you’re old enough to hunt them on your own. Learn to properly set up on turkeys, to sit still, and to kill them the right way.
Never walk through the woods with a loaded deer rifle. If you were to trip or step in a stump hole, it could go off. Never climb a ladder or use a tree climber while toting a loaded weapon, either. Instead, use a pull-up rope to raise and lower your gun to and from the ground.
Watch for snakes when you’re turkey hunting. Never sit down to a turkey without checking all around the tree for a coiled-up snake. Learn to identify snakes and to distinguish venomous snakes from harmless ones. Even snakes serve a purpose, so don’t kill any that you don’t have to.
Coyotes are more scared of you than you are of them. Learn to appreciate their music.
Don’t kill things like turtles or songbirds just for target practice. A lot of your friends will do this, especially in high school and college. Nothing says that you have to, though. Shoot a paper target or a coke can instead.
Hunters are oftentimes their own worst enemy. Don’t turn an increasingly anti-hunting world against us even more by doing stupid things like killing non-game animals or leaving a deer carcass on the side of the road. Don’t ever trespass. Any time you see painted lines on a tree, turn around and go back.
Always call your mother when you get to camp.
Be a conservationist, not just a hunter. Give back, don’t just take. Join, support and get involved in organizations like the National Wild Turkey Federation, Ducks Unlimited, and the Alabama Wildlife Federation.
When you’re old enough, vote your sport and encourage your friends to do the same. I only hope that when you’re my age you’ll still be able to keep and bear arms and freely enjoy the hunting sports.
Never kill an animal that you’re either not going to eat or give to someone who will. If you don’t feel like cleaning it, let it walk. Donate a doe or two to a mission or homeless shelter, especially around Thanksgiving and Christmas. When you prepare wild game, remember that it will cook very quickly, so don’t ruin a good backstrap or duck or pheasant or turkey breast by overcooking it.
When you’re tired of sitting and you’re certain that you’re not going to see anything, give it another half-hour.
Invest at least as much in your scope as you do in your rifle, especially the ones you inherit from me.
Any time you find a facemask or a pair of gloves or a turkey vest that you really like, buy two of them. For whatever reason, they always stop making your favorite hunting stuff right before you need to replace it. Never fails.
Always praise God and thank Him for His wondrous creation, and for the freedom to enjoy it.
Finally, know that at this moment, as you and I sit and listen to the birds sing, and hear the distant reports of duck guns out on the Tensaw, I feel more humble and fulfilled than at any other time in my life, because you are here with me.
A little while ago, you climbed down to get a bottled water from the truck, which is parked close by. As I watched you walk down the trail away from our stand toward the truck, your bright orange outline getting smaller and smaller with each brave little step, I was so thankful that the dreams I first had in that ultrasound room have come true. You looked back at me every so often, just to make sure that I was still there. Eventually, when you got a ways down the trail, you looked back but couldn’t see me anymore. But that’s okay. Life’s going to be like that. Just know this, and carry it with you for the rest of your days:
Even if you can’t see me when you turn around and look back, I will always be there.
Love,
Daddy
January 6, 2013
(c) Roger Guilian 2013
posted by Days Afield Host | 7:52 PM
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