This was written by a friend of mines wife last spring during a hunt with a Grandfather, a father, daughters and a granddaughter.
The Hunter's Blessing
I am still, still as the trees and rocks and grass around me. A part of the darkness that fills
the woods, from the darkness a chorus of gobbles breaks the silence. I take in a slow
breath of cold air and let it out slowly. Steadying my pounding heart as I learned to do as
a child, my eyes slide to the left knowing from experience exactly what I will see. My
dad carefully pulls the familiar box call from his pocket, his movements slow and
practiced. Beside him is my daughter. Not moving a muscle. Still as a statue, save for the
excitement I see dancing in her eyes. Her expression matches my own. We are alert.
Listening, and waiting. Just like the rest of the forest. Just as the sun begins to peek over
the horizon dad calls to the birds we know are hidden ahead. We are rewarded by the
putting purring response of the turkeys we seek. With anticipation building in our chests
we wait some more. As we wait I watch and listen as the world around me awakens. The
sun moves higher over the horizon dissipating the cold dark blanket that surrounded us
just moments before. The sky lightens to a soft blue and everywhere the sun touches a
fine mist arises. Along with mist is the song of the birds welcoming in the new day.
Suddenly the brightening forest is filled with sounds. A magical musical song begins
between the hunted and the hunter. It is the start of an intricate dance he will do as he
draws closer to his target. Drumming beats signal that the end is almost near. The
drumming of our hearts, the drumming of their impressive approach, rays of sunshine in
my eyes. As I close them I see scenes as similar and different as this flash behind my lids,
in these woods and ones far away. As the sun welcomes a new day and says goodbye to
one gone by. Scenes where I am the girl at my dad's side, the song my dad makes with
the turkey is in my blood and the dance of the hunt is ever changing. The steps never the
same, the only common thread is the feeling I get deep in my soul. A feeling of peace and
amazement washes through me. I am surrounded in beauty. A beauty so pure and
astonishing it can only have been made by the hand of God. I am filled with His presence
and know that we are not dancing alone in these woods. We are walking side by side with
Our Father. It is here, in these moments, surrounded by God's creation that I feel closest
to God. Taking in my surroundings - the steep canyon walls, the trees towering above me,
the soaring eagles, the chattering squirrels, the strutting turkeys - I see Gods hand
everywhere. I am grateful to be a part of his plan. When I open my eyes a world of
possibilities appears. The turkeys draw nearer. Our hunt might be successful today and it
might not. That makes little difference. Nature's lesson has been learned and God's
blessing has touched his hunters.
