Once upon a time, me and my brother went hunting in the woods behind our grandparents 

House. It was the best time of year. The turning leaves cast a golden orange glow, the atmosphere was crisp, there was a smoky smell in the air as folks were starting up their wood stoves. That’s when buck fever sets in. The old adrenalin gets pumping and you feel super alive. It’s my favorite season. I wake up to my alarm screaming in my ear telling me to get up it's time to go deer hunting. There is pine trees that could almost reach the clouds. I couldn’t sleep because I was excited about going hunting and getting the biggest dear, so I was tired. I touched a one of the trees to get over the fallen down trees.  It is 3:30 in the morning, as I peek out the window and see that the snow is beginning to fall. After getting dressed, I go into the den to grab the guns and get ready to head out the door, we climbed in our separate hunting stands and waited for the next few hours hoping to see something. 5 hours have gone by and we haven't seen anything so we decide to go in for lunch. On our way back out we spooked up a monster 18 point buck my brother took a shot at it from 50 yards away with his .243, he missed the buck by a hair and it kept running so I take aim with my 7mm and with the gray and brown fur in my sights I pulled the trigger and the firing pin hit the bullet let it fly. I hit him in the shoulder, then the buck disappeared into a thick brush… Several hours later we went to where we shot at it and started following the blood trail hoping to find it. After a couple hours we were still following the trail but at this point it started to get dark out and seemed hopeless. But then after walking through two cornfields there he was laying there dead. An animal hunted well becomes a part of something bigger.  A hunter that hunts well, and tells the story properly, promises that the animal will live forever.  A story untold never has the chance to die properly or with dignity in the wild. An expression, created at the intersection of the mind and the human heart, is an ancient and animal part of us that must be set free to live. So, until I ascend to Sportsman’s Nirvana, I will continue to doggedly search for truth and beauty in every missed shot, wind knot, and frozen duck blind.