April 17, 2024
Surrounded
Twilight was already ending when I awoke. It felt good to sleep in and when I got out of bed; I felt rested. Dogs and chores occupied my morning as I put some clothes to wash and cleaned up the kitchen after making some coffee. The middle of the week was here.
During my lunch break, I took a walk into the woods. I was still pleasantly surprised to find the cleared trails my wife left me. When we moved here, there were a few pieces of dead wood arranged on the ground. Chance had placed them in the rough shape of a horse, and we used it as a landmark, stepping over it, while we explored the trails. After a year, the wood had disintegrated and our little horse was nowhere to be found. This morning, however, while exploring the trails, I saw my wife had fashioned a new horse, better than the first, and placed it just off the trail where it would not get trampled. I stopped to take a few pictures and later texted my wife that I had found it. She laughed.
The sky was cloudy, but the air felt less humid, and it was pleasant to be out in the middle of the day. This week, the temperatures had been warm, making lunchtime walks hot, causing me to arrive at the house ready to cool off and dry the sweat from my brow. The forest was quiet this afternoon. While walking through the shaded grove, I noticed all the deer corn was gone, so I planned to take some more out later. Something had opened up and eaten the five ears of fresh corn, leaving only the husks, silks, and bare corncobs. An animal had carried one ear a hundred yards down the trail and eaten it there.
With the progression of spring, the air smelled sweeter by the day. While the early blooming pear and wild cherry trees had little aroma, sweet flowers and blossoms were showing up everywhere. In a few more weeks, the more fragrant flowers would arrive. Still, the air already smelled pleasant enough to grab and hold my attention.
When I arrived at the creek area, I slowed down, walking as stealthily as I could. Four ducks had frequented the area, but I had not identified them. A month ago, I saw a pair of mallards in this same area, but these ducks looked different. Last week, I shot a few photos of them when they flushed, but the pictures came out blurry. I was finally getting close to the water when I heard a deer bark, followed by the sound of branches snapping as they bolted. There were no ducks in sight.
By the time I arrived back at the house, I felt hot. I went inside, grabbed some water and turned on the ceiling fan in my office. The fresh air served me well, and I felt ready for a productive afternoon at work. I still had a few minutes before my break was over, so I grabbed the pork spare ribs out of the refrigerator, salted them, and threw them on the smoker. On days like today, I loved having my Traeger wood pellet grill. Within five minutes, I had the meat on the grill, which would put off smoke for the next four hours without requiring me to do a thing.
After work had ended, I grabbed my boots and hat and headed into the woods for last light. If there was one thing that drove me crazy about spring and summer, it was the biting fly. These pesky flies seemed to find me within minutes of being outdoors. They were huge and inflicted painful bites that caused large welts. The most annoying thing about the biting fly was that you could not shoo it away. This thing would follow me for hundreds of yards, always staying right above my head and out of reach, then hitting my head with a thump while I unsuccessfully flailed my arms to thwart its bite.
Last year, however, I found a solution, my Outdoor Research Bug Helios hat that had a bug net that stowed neatly into a hidden compartment fastened with magnets. Just having the hat on seemed to repel the biting flies. I was not sure why they liked to attack my head. And the net came in handy when the mosquitoes were out. The hat was a must have and my wife and I used them religiously during the hot months. Yesterday, the flies arrived, and this evening I was ready.
I made my way to my ground blind in the grove. Last week, several days of high winds had tossed it upside down. I turned the tent-like structure right side up and repositioned it near the tree line. This allowed me to watch both the forest and empty field without being detected. After, I headed north up the trail.
When I arrived at the area where the grove met the woodland, I heard a deer bark. I saw them running further north toward the creek, so I turned west to a trail that looped around, hoping to cut them off near the water. I had not walked two hundred yards when I heard another deer bark. This was a different herd that spotted me and then ran east. I walked as quietly as possible to see if I could follow the herd. Within twenty steps, another deer barked to my left, where a third herd was feeding.
Deer literally surrounded me. Crouching down with my camera, I remained motionless, contemplating my next move in order to capture some suitable photographs. I decided I would backtrack to my blind, where all the deer seemed to be headed. I knew they would either circle back to that area or head north, cross the creek, and be gone. Either direction was a gamble. When I arrived back at the blind, there were no deer in sight. Even though I didn’t shoot any stellar photographs, I exited the woods, feeling lucky to have been out in the wild.
When I arrived back at the house, I turned up the heat on the grill to cook off the ribs that had been smoking for several hours. Then I split some wood, built a fire, and stretched out in the hammock under the setting sun. Life was good. I sent my wife a short proof of life video, so she wouldn’t worry about me. We talked later via FaceTime and I called her again to say goodnight after I showered. I went to bed happy that I would wake up one day closer to seeing my best friend.