I arrived at camp Rack & Feather early. The cell phone rang, it was Jim Acker. His wife, Carla, was preparing a large dish of lasagna and a salad for camp, but it wasn’t quite ready. Could I please go inside and build the fire.
This happens often, I’m somewhat suspicious Jim likes coming to a warm camp. But, I have to admit it was a small price to pay for Carla’s delicious cooking!
I hauled my stuff inside, started the fire, settled into a reclining chair and eased my aching back. It has been killing me.
And so I waited.
I don’t mind waiting, especially since there’s Solitaire and Sudoku on the cell phone to occupy your mind. But, how much of our life do we actually spend waiting? Ah, a very intriguing subject.
When we’re young we can’t wait to grow up, a big mistake for sure. Once, I couldn’t wait to become 12 and purchase my first hunting license. Next, waiting impatiently for 16 so I could drive. Back in the day, we in Bradford couldn’t wait for 18, not to vote for heaven’s sake, but to drive across the state line and buy an ice cold draft beer at the old Limestone Grill. They really made great hamburgers there as well and the pool table was always busy. You usually had to wait to play a game.
After that you couldn’t wait to graduate and escape high school. When I think back to all the fun and friends I had then it was really a silly wish; high school wasn’t bad at all in reflection.
It was expected I’d go to college and once one begins that journey you’re impatient to finish despite many other good experiences. You didn’t know it then, but the world was just waiting for you to graduate and indoctrinate you to the realities of adult life. Marriage, car payments, mortgages, taxes and bosses suddenly took the place of teachers; hadn’t expected that. Then the shocking reality of restful nights being shattered by the cries of your little baby. Adorable, but they can wreak havoc with your schedule. To my own amazement I became quite proficient at changing diapers, diagnosing why the little one was crying, treating diaper rash, knowing when to change formulas and deciding the experts actually knew next to nothing about babies or children. Mom knew what to do, throw the book out!
For some silly reason you can’t wait until your baby begins to walk. Again, a disaster! Curtains ripped down, falls, bruises, bumps, hide all sharp objects, your favorite lamps overturned, valuables broken, burns, new dangers with stairs and banks thrown in for good measure. What was I thinking? Crawling was much less stressful.
Jim arrived shortly and we settled in waiting for the other hunters to arrive. We didn’t wait to try the lasagna though — delicious!
The next morning the alarm blared at 5:30. Chris Shaw was shaking his head in the kitchen, he’d set the coffee maker for 5 PM instead of 5 AM so everyone waited for coffee. I myself mixed up AM and PM the day before and missed an appointment, so I sympathized with his distress.
Jay dropped me off in the darkness and I staggered across the ditch, and up the bank barely able to see enough to find my way to my stand. With my back hurting so badly a tree stand seemed unwise, so I settled beside a large oak. With my scent-free clothing I was fairly confident I wouldn’t be at a great disadvantage if the wind cooperated just a little. It was so dark I was unsure of my exact position, but felt I was close enough and sat.
Once again, waiting.
Slowly things began to acquire solid shapes, edges became visible, and trees took solid form. Soon even the leaves were visible as separate outlines instead of globs of darkness.
Looking around it appeared I was right where I should be. I thought of moving to another larger tree, but a small voice said to stay put. I did.
Suddenly, an acorn fell just beside me. A minute later, just three feet away, a squirrel appeared, head down, tail jerking. He froze when he spotted me, and after a close inspection spun around the tree and vanished. Soon three other squirrels appeared. The day had begun.
A flash of motion caught my eye as a large, dark, square bodied deer briefly appeared 100 yards away. I’d bet a small fortune it was a buck, but there was no time to see details. I raised the crossbow and balanced it on my knee. The deer had begun moving out of the bottom; be ready. Almost immediately I saw ears and a few minutes later a doe and her fawns moved past at 15 yards. Ten minutes later I saw another deer, a three-point. He passed at 10 yards, I could see every hair on him. Just before 9, a doe fed downhill at 30 yards. A horn sounded below, my ride, time for breakfast.
It’d been a good wait, a fine morning.
Life’s made me realize we’re silly to be impatient, instead we should be enjoying and counting our blessings. A lesson it appears you must wait some time to fully comprehend.
