Stillness. The cold air bites into the exposed skin of your hands, cheeks and nose. All is silent, save the low rustle of autumn winds through the trees, carrying with it the faint hints of the winter yet to come and the quiet chirps of Carolina wrens in the distance. The trees around you are a mix of pine, cedar, pecan and oak; they surround you for miles. You smell the cold crisp air with hints of pine smoke from a fire a mile west of you. Sitting in a chair in a deer stand. you are silent and still, except for the slow turning of your head and quick scanning of your eyes seeking the light brown tone of fur. You strain your ears, listening for steps in the leaves or the low grunt of a buck. It's getting late.
When you first climbed into the stand, you noticed a small wasp nest underneath with a few of these undesirable creatures lethargically crawling on top of it. Since it is cold out, they remain mostly inactive, but it still troubles you in the back of your mind. You worry if a wrong move will get you swarmed. Despite your worries, you remain still, because you have discipline. Your rifle laws across your lap. Your weapon of choice: a simple bolt-action rifle. If you fire too quickly without true aim, you'll lose the opportunity at a second shot. Once you have fired, everything near by that did not get killed will run and be long gone before you can chamber a second round.
It's getting close to dusk now, meaning you will have to leave soon. The stand sits on the edge of a lane through the woods that is about 25 yards across. To your right, the land stretches about 90 yards before sloping up to a hill. To your left, the lane extends about 200 yards ending at the curve of an old dirt road. You have been watching mostly to the right side all day because you hear the rustle of leaves and believe it to be a deer walking in the woods. It's more likely a squirrel looking for the last bits of acorn before winter. On a whim, you peer down your scope to the left side for a change, and there centered on your cross hairs is a buck. He is about 150 pounds, with a seven point rack at a 15-inch spread. A good pick. He is facing the opposite side of the lane, giving you a full broadside view; the perfect shot. You could not ask for any better. Normally, the ideal place to shoot a deer is just behind the front shoulder. This is where the heart and lungs are and the most likely place to kill it instantly with no suffering.
Your heart begins to race, but you know not to rush. Breathe, relax. Take slow, calm breaths. He slowly steps forward and you follow. Slowly squeeze the trigger, do not pull; if you do, you'll jerk the shot. It should always surprise you. BAM!! You peer down, and see the flick of a tail, and then stillness. A clean shot. It was dead before it hit the ground. No suffering. This is one of the most important things to a hunter.
For those of you who do not hunt, you may be asking, "Okay, so what? Why are you telling me this, what's it got to do with anything?" The moral of this story: patience. It seems to me that my generation, and our society in general, has forgotten the importance of this. In all things you do in life, you have to be able to exercise patience. It is a virtue and one that I hold very dear. In a world where everything we have is now instant and quick, we sometimes forget to stop and smell the roses. We're so caught up in what's next, that we are completely missing what is going on right now. You have to be patient to get what you want in life, because unlike our instant messages and social media, hard work and dedication doesn't happen at the speed of light. So stop and breathe in the fresh air once in a while. Lay down and look at the stars, or even sit in a deer stand for 10 hours on a cold fall day. I promise you this: the best things in life are worth waiting for.
