I arrived at the game lands at 0630, 34 mins before shooting time. I got out of the truck and gathered my items, slipped on my boots and headed into the field as the parking lot started to fill. As a hint of the sun could be seen on the horizon, I positioned myself in the part of the field I wanted to be. At shooting time, I started walking in a crossing pattern the section of wheat I thought I could cover by myself with out a dog. I spent the first 30 mins of the day walking that patch without a hint of or sense of, a phesant. Just that fast I tired of that game and headed up to my ridge to go after squirrel. I got up on the ridge I have come to know so well. It was darker in the trees, and the suns warming rays would be delayed by the elevation that much more. I got high on the ridge and waited for the woods to wake up.
The first hint of a noise is always the birds at sunrise. The chill in the air promised to keep the squirrels in their dens a few extra minutes. I stood patiently waiting against a tree. The smells of fall all around. The carpet of the fallen leaves were damp with morning dew. As I waited, the first sound of squirrels scampering along the forest carpet were heard, rustle, rustle, crack .... Wait, that can't be a squirrel. I saw a bush move, some leaves stirred and then the black of a nose appeared. A deer was coming, 20 yards, 15, 10 .... now broadside at 8, stopped to bend his neck and lick his far leg - 6 points, three to a side, small guy, no mass, but yet the first buck I had seen in these woods in three years. Had I had my longbow, this would be a different story. Instead, he moved to about 12 yards, and faced down hill and watched through the thinning forest the orange blobs moving in the fields below. He did not know I was there, and I took a picture with my phone camera. It came out kinda blurry. I watched him for a few mins and he took off a while later when he turned to go up hill and discoverd a blob that should not be there right in his bedroom. I would have taken this young buck with my longbow, if only I had brought it this am. I would see him three more times this am.
I took a squirrel after he left, and waited 20 mins before moving on to find others. This tactic repeated itself over the morning. Shoot, wait 20 or so mins, than slow stalk to the next sound of limb bacon. Shoot, wait, stalk. The midland hit with authority where ever I pointed it. 20-40 yards, didn't matter. Love this shotgun. It was brought back to life at the hands of our own 86er. He did a wonderful job and I will cherish this shotgun for a good while.
here is a shot I took at the midday break:
