Monday, October 21, 2013
This is the old stone wall at the edge of my property, a good hike uphill and west of the farmhouse. I sit there on quiet mornings hoping to flush a grouse or take down a squirrel. I am also watching for signs of larger game, like deer. While my senses are up mostly I am in it for the stillness, the reflection, and the love of being outside in the forest. It's a holy place to me. A place where food, entertainment, excitement, and seasons swirl and glow. Hunting is a hike with hope and a gun. It is a huge part of my life now, for the pot as well as the soul. I adore it. It connects me to that primal and beloved part of my self that always shone deep. I was the little girl stalking sqirrels in her backyard with a cheap little bow and arrow. I was the girl who got lost at Girl Scout Camp, just walking into the woods to explore. I still am that girl. The only difference from then to now is my wonder only has grown, not diminished.