Adam, Tracy and Scott Higginbotham - Opening Day Deer Hunting 2023
Sitting as still as a human being can, I peered into the depths of the woods in front of me as the sun rose. When you can’t speak, only listen and see, details pop into life bolder and livelier. We got to our perfectly scouted camp spot in the darkness of early morning with only the brightness of the moon and a few flashlights.
As sunbeams started to pierce the dark forest, I noticed things you wouldn’t typically notice unless you were in the woodland at 6 a.m. I was mesmerized by a tree sapling covered with moss changing differing hues of green as the sun hit it, by two droplets of dew hovering for dear life on a branch never falling or evaporating, and by the wind changing directions every twenty minutes rustling cinnamon-colored leaves on a small bush. I wondered, “Why does the wind change direction so often?”
Annually, I join my husband and sons on the opening day of deer hunting season, mostly to be with them since I’m not interested in shooting an animal, and to experience this mostly male ritual since being a female typically excludes you from learning to hunt. If I’m a feminist then I want to experience some of my life from a male perspective.
Tracy and Adam Higginbotham
As a four-point buck, so silent you didn’t hear him, walked into sight of our hunting blind, my son slowly lifted his gun for a shot, but before the blink of an eye, the super-keen-eared deer hopped up and over fallen trees through the forest until all we saw was his white tail rejoicing in winning the day. We were so close, and yet so far away, from hitting this superior creature aware of every single aspect of his surroundings.
As my son grumbled having not taken a shot, I sat for a moment thinking how hard it must have been for the pilgrims and Indians to forge for food. With so much ground to cover, with animals knowing their terrain better than humans, it is amazing there was food for the first Thanksgiving Day meal. I imagine I would have starved to death as an early pioneer woman if I had to rely solely on my hunting skills.
As the chilly day started coming to an end as the sun started to settle itself, my husband shot a doe. I got to experience the things that happen after a deer is shot - none of which I want to describe in my blog because it might be too sensitive for readers. But I was pleased I made it through another year of experiencing this ancient sport in the stillness of the woods surrounded by the abundance of nature, my son, and the lessons it taught me - that women can hunt too if they want.
