Musings From 30 Feet Up

Where has the Colorado Hunter been for the past two weeks?  Clearly not blogging as there has not been a post since August 19th.  It should not surprise you that I was out hunting.  Creating more memories, photographs and videos, which I hope to share in the near future. In the meantime, I bring you perhaps my shortest post to date, my attempt at a little backwoods poetry.

I am different than most.

My idea of a perfect afternoon is one spent in silence,

Observing the golden glow of the warm fall sun fade into dusk. 

My hopes and dreams stream through my mind,

My senses are alive and fined tuned to the forest, waiting,

Waiting to report that one tell tale sound, 

The crack of a stick, the whisper of grass, or a hoof striking stone.

With each passing moment, my anticipation grows,

Will tonight be the night?

As I wait in ambush for my prey,

I find a deeper connection to my predatory instincts.

I am different than most,

I am a traditional bow hunter.