predator
Very Active Member
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- 2,567
LAST EDITED ON Sep-14-04 AT 11:29AM (MST)[p]Ya know, I started feeling strange in the last couple of weeks. Didn't think much about it, other than it was noticeable. Had trouble concentrating, wasn't sleeping well, mind wandering everywhere while I forgot things. Then I just didn't feel like eating anything. I felt a constant jumpiness, kinda like a wierd sortof jittering, as if my body was wired with a low voltage electricity.
Then I started having an irresistable urge to go through the equipment room and start making lists of things I needed. I dunno what's going on, but I suspect that once again-
FALL IS HERE AND I AM OBSESSED WITH HUNTING.
I admit it, I'm addicted. There is no 12-step recovery process here; the only way to feed it is to *get out there*,
to wander amongst the golden aspens as the faintest whiff of winter wind pulls the last leaf to the ground.
To pause and bask in the midday sun underneath a pine, falling fast asleep in the comforting aroma of humus.
To wonder from the craggy ridges and peaks if anyone else has been there.
To drink from a clear spring and swear that it's the best water I've ever had.
To saunter hip-deep in grass still green and be slammed to a stop by the musky smell of elk and realize you just walked into them as the popping sound of hoof and antler on wood explodes around you.
To freeze your butt off in the sudden deluge of freezing rain, hail and sleet while sincerely wishing you'd worn wool today.
To catch yourself laughing when you pass a particular spring where you once launched an arrow while half-naked.
To breathe deep the gathering darkness as light fades from the last day of the last hunt and go home completely at peace with yourself and the the world around you for another year.
*BIG SIGH* I AM ALIVE AND GRATEFUL FOR IT.
Then I started having an irresistable urge to go through the equipment room and start making lists of things I needed. I dunno what's going on, but I suspect that once again-
FALL IS HERE AND I AM OBSESSED WITH HUNTING.
I admit it, I'm addicted. There is no 12-step recovery process here; the only way to feed it is to *get out there*,
to wander amongst the golden aspens as the faintest whiff of winter wind pulls the last leaf to the ground.
To pause and bask in the midday sun underneath a pine, falling fast asleep in the comforting aroma of humus.
To wonder from the craggy ridges and peaks if anyone else has been there.
To drink from a clear spring and swear that it's the best water I've ever had.
To saunter hip-deep in grass still green and be slammed to a stop by the musky smell of elk and realize you just walked into them as the popping sound of hoof and antler on wood explodes around you.
To freeze your butt off in the sudden deluge of freezing rain, hail and sleet while sincerely wishing you'd worn wool today.
To catch yourself laughing when you pass a particular spring where you once launched an arrow while half-naked.
To breathe deep the gathering darkness as light fades from the last day of the last hunt and go home completely at peace with yourself and the the world around you for another year.
*BIG SIGH* I AM ALIVE AND GRATEFUL FOR IT.
