The Calm Before The Storm

At this moment in time, all is right with the world. I'm leaning back in the recliner at my grandparents' house, enjoying the familiar view of the Bigfork River weaving through the backyard on its lazy journey to the Canadian border, about five miles away. past the river, there's the woods. actually, in pretty much every direction, as far as the eye can see, there's woods. that's what I like about this place. everything is so simple. in every direction, there's woods, above you, there are stars, and below you there's grass. and that's the way I like it.

Inside the house is familiar, too. a fire crackles and pops in the large stone fireplace, dear heads with impressive racks tastefully adorn the various walls, good smells are coming from the kitchen, and from somewhere far away I can hear four-wheelers as my dad and grandpa are making last-minute deer stand inspections.

We arrived last night, my dad, my brother and I. This trip up to Minnesota was far less eventful than my last one had been, when my big brother and I had gotten the bright idea to drive through the night. no big deal. it would be a snap. we'd seen our parents do it countless times over the years. by about two in the morning, we were both cursing our stupidity. finally, at around five in the morning, eyes bloodshot and virtually dead to the world, we rolled to a stop in front of the small farmhouse near the Canadian border and stumbled out of the car, solemnly swearing to never do that again, ever.

So not much is happening today. hunting season doesn't start until tomorrow, so today is really just devoted to planning which tree stand to sit in and caressing our guns. today is a day to relax before the hubbub begins. although, I've got to say, I like the hubbub, the chaos, the adrenaline, the intensity that is hunting season.

For now, though, relaxing here, basking in the familiar sights and smells and memories...this is okay, too.