Hunting Season Again

I know it's hunting season because bottles of wine are starting to arrive at our front door. That, and I have to go walking with a fluorescent orange jacket, so that the hunters have to aim to hit me.

I'm not a hunter; neither is the Farmer. However, we have several hundred acres of woods giving lots of hiding space to crop-eating deer. There are no natural predators. The deer eat a LOT of corn.

Coming from the city, I was in the "Don't Shoot Bambi" camp. Barbaric, old-fashioned... whatever. I just saw a facebook post in response to a hunter who enjoys it. "Barbaric" was the response. I wondered, almost publicly, if she eats meat. And how she gets it. Wrapped in plastic on a styrofoam plate?

Moving to the Gravel Road, I've had to think about hunting, if for no other reason than it's a common practice and hunters ask permission to hunt on our land. We say yes. Here's why. For the Record.

1. The hunters ask permission.
2. They say thank you afterwards. They truly appreciate the privilege. They used to offer us some of the meat, but I'm vegetarian and The Farmer doesn't like venison. They bring wine now, instead!
3. They take out what they take in and look out for the property.
4. They follow the rules: wear orange, get the tags, share the space.
5. The equipment is not hi-tech. Let me rephrase. They don't use high-power rifles. They use bows and black powder guns. These pieces ARE high tech, but they can't simply aim and fire. And that's intentional. Hunters do have to work for their prey.
6. They use all of the animal.
7. Unlike meat eaters in the city, who buy meat that someone else has killed, butchered and packaged, the hunters have caught their own meat. It's free range, organic and, frankly, natural.
8. The hunters help keep the deer population in check.

I'm still not a fan of hunting and will never hunt unless I have to in order to eat; however, the hunters are welcome here.

First Day of Spring on a Gravel Road

Around the corner from us is the Thorny Acres Arboretum. It is a huge tract of land owned by a retired doctor couple. They have lovingly cared for the land, planting trees, cultivating environmentally sensitive areas, repairing the fence, providing a relatively safe place for deer, raccoons, wild turkeys, birds, critters and native plant species. They wouldn't let anyone in to walk at all- I asked some years ago- and I've always respected that, though the existence of a fence, a huge piece of land and a NO TRESPASSING sign on the gate have been tempting.

This morning it was frosty cold and the north wind was biting, but the sun was out and the sky was that magical, spotless, clear blue. The sun was just up over the horizon and the air was filled with the spring calls and sounds of thousands of birds. The Gravel Road is a noisy place!

The night world of animals is quite hidden, unless you're out and about at night. Raccoons, I'm assuming, had tipped over the plastic garbage can on wheels, opened the lid and gotten their midnight snack (lock the lid) and all the sunflower seeds were neatly cleaned up from the pieces of wood I'd spread them out from. If it were birds, the shells would still be there. These surfaces were lickety split clean.

At the Arboretum, there are more tell tale critter signs. A winding, narrow swath of dirt brown grass is flattened leading from the 'inside' of the fence to the outside. Dozens of raccoon tracks are frozen in the roadside gravel. Along the road, in the areas that get squishy on spring days, deer tracks. Very lightly impressed into the mud... wild turkey footprints. Places in the fence where the deer can jump over the barbs safely, the wire bent down. A hole through matted grass where the raccoons can get in and out of the arboretum.

I have neither camera nor plaster of Paris with which to record these. But I find it a simple wondrous joy to be aware of these things.