Our leader is a wide eyed and spry man in his early sixties. After 3 cups of coffee any person is hyper but he is on a different level. As we reach the small stand of pines we stop and listen. The sun is rising , casting a wonderful orange and red canvas across the sky. With a sound that cuts through the air a mature gobbler has flown down and is closing in fast. We scramble to set up. Breaking twigs , getting caught on branches and tripping into the shadows to sit down, shut-up, and pray to God this bird comes to our calling. Minutes passed which felt like eternity. Slowly a white head materializes out of the brush. "He is not liking this at all" our buddy whispers. "Take him while you can!"...I missed.
For three years and with three different birds I have watched as they cackle and laugh as they alight , almost looking like Good Year blimps trying to take off. Curses were muttered , a deep sigh was heard , and we carried on. We hunted all that day , covering close to two or three miles for this property was immense. Landsford Canal , for those who know of it straddles the Catawba River for a few miles near Rock Hill SC. This area runs deep into my families roots and history. Our farm was near here, my grandfather would camp on the banks of the river and duck hunt with his old hunt buddies of childhood. We are men of the upstate , simple as that. As afternoon was closing in , we were tired , sweaty , and a bit discouraged. So we decided to hike to one last place.
As we reached the crest of the hill, I looked out and saw the true creation of God. The place where my grandfather hunted and fished with siblings and friends, where Native Americans lived and hunted generations before. For years I had driven by the river but never actually taken the time to be still and observe it . The silence and peace that it brought was refreshing, reminding me of why I love hunting so much. Two eagles landed on an old oak feet from us, a blue heron flew down to continue his rule over the riverbank. Fish jumped , turtles sunned themselves on old logs. It was truly beautiful.
It was at this moment when I started to feel at peace in area of so much loss. The farm is gone, the gate locked away along with my childhood. But the power and beauty that the area evokes breaks through this barrier that locked itself away last July.
The rest of the day was great. A trip to Nichols our favorite one stop hunt shop, ( if you've never been its truly is incredible. Only place I know where you can buy a Glock and Grilled Cheese all in the same place.) and an afternoon of fishing with my oldest friend on the pond near our neighborhood ( I also didn't land the giant bass on the end of my rod. Bad luck I suppose).
Life has a funny way of bringing you back to the basics. Of showing what is really important. I spent a great day with my father doing something we both love ( hint, not the missing part.). I spent a day standing in awe of the creation my God has blessed me with. That is truly and unexpected pleasure.
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| Turkey Bluff |
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