BillsBayou
Chumono
Dawn broke in silence. Sitting in the blind, I could see the first rays reaching through the morning mist. Golden light touched the crowns of the tallest trees. Slowly, the light came down, melting across and down the boughs, and I watched. As it fell farther, the light was thinned by the soft first blush of Spring leaves. It diminished until the only thing that could reach the forest floor was a dull glow. Searching through the solid bank of silhouettes I could not find my prey. Still, the light grew. It grew until the shadows lost their fight to hold on to one another. Each was slowly becoming identifiable. Patiently, I scanned them.
Then I saw it. I remained calm as I slowly turned my rifle to match my line of sight. Standing at the base of some of the oldest trees in the world was my prize. A 1262-point baldy stood motionless in the growing light. Nearly motionless myself, almost imperceptible to the flora, I raised my rifle and aimed. The round had been chambered in darkness, nearly an hour before first light. Sliding my finger through the trigger guard and pulling just far enough back, the hammer fell and the forest was no longer silent. Nor, in a brief flash, was the morning sun the brightest light in the mist.
Trust me. There is a plan.
Then I saw it. I remained calm as I slowly turned my rifle to match my line of sight. Standing at the base of some of the oldest trees in the world was my prize. A 1262-point baldy stood motionless in the growing light. Nearly motionless myself, almost imperceptible to the flora, I raised my rifle and aimed. The round had been chambered in darkness, nearly an hour before first light. Sliding my finger through the trigger guard and pulling just far enough back, the hammer fell and the forest was no longer silent. Nor, in a brief flash, was the morning sun the brightest light in the mist.
Trust me. There is a plan.
