Saturday morning was unusually cold for October.
The fallen leaves -- littering the entire forest floor -- were dry, crisp, and noisy as I made my way, bow in hand, off to the first deer hunt of the season.
Walking into the woods, I met a flock of turkeys, just heading out to graze in the pre-dawn light. I do not know who was more startled, but we managed to scare each other quite well as I jumped and they went crashing through the trees.
My favorite deer hunting spot is where I hunted squirrels two weeks ago. I had hoped to clear out part of the noisy population and win some money in competition at the same time. I did not win any money in the great squirrel hunt, and if anything, shooting a couple of them only attracted more.
I have never seen so many squirrels. There were gray squirrels chattering at me in the tree-tops and red squirrels scolding nearby. If I had a rifle, I could have won the squirrel contest twice over. As it was, I tried to remain invisible to the deer while a dozen squirrels barked at me.
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The dry leaves are a disadvantage to hunters as a deer can hear them coming a mile away. Conversely, the hunter can also hear the deer coming from a great distance.
I sat quietly, unable to move for fear of scaring off any approaching game. The turkeys, who I had met earlier, called back and forth across the timber, trying to regroup. One came walking down the ditch in front of me, well within range. I was not sure, if in the whole pile of licenses I had bought, I had gotten a fall turkey tag. This was not a good time to rummage around in my wallet to check. He passed on by. (No, I had not.)
A group of 40 or 50 bluebirds stopped within a few feet of me on their migratory trip south. It reminded me of one of those goofy Disney movies where the bluebirds flit around and sing to the hero. They must not have thought me so heroic and left after a few minutes.
My hunting spot is behind two large oak trees at the edge of a steep ravine. I can see into the ditch and have a clear shot at the opposite side where a deer path follows the top. The only bad thing about this otherwise ideal hunting spot is my back is totally exposed. When the wind is from the north, as it usually is during deer season, this is fine. Anything approaching from my back would surely smell me before I was seen. Having three sides covered is good enough.
I passed the time waiting for the next world-record buck to come into range by watching and listening to the sounds of the forest. Before long, I heard something directly behind me. It was fairly noisy, so I assumed it was another squirrel that showed up on the wrong day.
Several minutes passed and the rustling continued. I finally turned slowly to see a young deer less than 20 feet away. I want a mature doe or a really big buck, but what is a person to do? I turned completely around, and she did not move. She stood broadside and stomped her foot as I raised my bow and drew the arrow back. The sight lined up nicely as I thought about taking a small doe on the first day of my bow hunting.
Even though I have two bow tags, I just could not do it. I will wait for a bigger one. She needs to grow up and it really is more about the hunt than the meat.
Walter Scott is an outdoors enthusiast and freelance writer from Bloomfield, Iowa.
