Opening Day

Here in Michigan, there’s one holiday that some people celebrate with gusto: opening day of deer hunting season. Grown men and women jump with glee and act like seven-year-olds with their Roy Rogers gun and holster.

There’s something about not taking a shower so you can smell more like nature and wearing camo on every part of your body inside and out so you look more like the woods (try that with my 6’5” sons!). Then there is the part about hauling yourself, binoculars, a tent, and a gun up the side of a 40-foot tree so you can hang from a flimsy metal seat. That always sends a question through my mind. WHY? Can they not see that falling is a great danger—especially falling with a gun?

The ultimate goal is to shoot a deer, or should I say, THE HOPE is to shoot a deer. When and if you do it’s a reverse process of dragging down every single piece of what you hauled up the tree. Where is the logic?

Then, the wonderful process of gutting the deer begins (gag reflexes kicking in here, folks). Oh, did I mention you need to bring a shovel so you can bury the yucky parts? Yet another item to haul up and down the tree!

The trophy is horns if the deer has them. Or you can do like some hunters I’ve known. They go out in the spring and find ones that have fallen off a deer and mount them. Now that seems like a whole lot easier to me!

Well, I guess it’s a fun sport for some. Today my three sons, my daughter-in-law, and two grandkids are out there on opening day walking through woods and fields…with guns. All I can do is pray that they’ll stay safe and have a good time. Oh, did I include the part about hauling the doughnuts and coffee up the tree? Yeah, they’re doing that too.