The cold mountain air stung my face as I walked through the forest. It was around 6: 00 in the morning; the sun had just begun to shine. I was the hunter and all my thoughts revolved around the hunt. Filled with only want and desire, I quietly trudged up the hill. The cool air smelled of pine and all was quiet except for the occasional chirping of birds.

On top of the hill I rested under a large, protective tree. Below lay a rich valley, filled with trees, a large, flowing stream and life. I sat in awe at the beauty, as time slipped away. I yearned to go down and explore, but sitting under the tree seemed more comfortable, and so I stayed.

After an hour of sitting in a meditative state, a young deer came into view. Not far behind stood his mother, keeping a careful eye on her young son. Anxiously I scanned the area, hoping to spot the buck, but to my dismay he was nowhere to be found. Sitting there I had no desire to harm nature in any way. I felt at peace.

Soon the buck came; he was large, a trophy within my grasp. Out of habit I raised my rifle and aimed. Slowly my finger squeezed the trigger, but I did not fire. My desire and need for a trophy were gone as I saw the young deer prance in a playful manner in front of his father. Confused, I slowly put down my rifle and watched them continue on their way.