In honor of deer season opening here in Georgia – yes, I do hunt since I love venison!

There is something special about sitting 30 feet up in an oak tree during deer season. You have made your way to your stand in the dark, easing through the still woods with nothing to guide you but your flashlight and any markers you put up during daylight. The woods look completely different and nothing is the same.

When you finally settle on your seat and arrange everything carefully so you can move into shooting position without a sound, you relax. It is about 30 minutes before legal shooting time and far too dark to see a deer on the ground, anyway.

The first thing you notice are the stars. Clear and bright beyond anything you can see from town, they are hard and cold. And if the air is icy they do not blink at all, they just stare at you wondering how you intruded into their night world.

Then you hear a sound, a slight crackling in the leaves. Is it the big buck you seek, moving past you well before you have any chance to take it? Or is it a raccoon making his last food forage before the sun runs him into hiding? Or is it Bigfoot coming after you for his breakfast?

Then you remember the mountain lion killed near LaGrange last year – not nearly far enough away. In the dark you will never know what it is, but your imagination sure can go wild.

Then there is a little lightening of the sky to the east. The stars seem to fade a little in that direction and within minutes vague shapes emerge on the forest floor. That one beside the big pine has to be a trophy buck staring at you, doesn’t it? You don’t dare move for fear of spooking him. Please let him stay there for just long enough to get shooting light.

Shooting light proves the big buck to be a stump. You knew it was there but the gray light changed it. Bushes, trees, rocks and stumps take on a different life before the sun comes up.

Suddenly you notice your breath. Foggy plumes issue from you into the air, like waving a white flag for any wise old buck to stay clear. So you breathe gently, trying to make it disappear.

When it gets light enough to shoot, you keep your head still and move only your eyes. When you hear a distinct crunch in the leaves behind you, there is absolutely no doubt it is a squirrel. No deer ever makes that much noise. There is no reason to even look. So you inch your head around as carefully as possible, with tiny movements. Sure enough, there is that bushy tail.

Birds appear like out of a magician’s hat, suddenly perching on limbs around you and greeting the sun. They go about their breakfast business as you watch. It is amazing how many different kinds of birds inhabit Georgia woods. And when a woodpecker drums on the tree just over your head you almost jump to the ground in fear.

Minutes drag, but suddenly you have been in the tree for hours. The sun is high and bright and there has not been a sign of a deer. But just as you decide to leave for the day, you see a whitetail standing broadside to you not 30 yards away in the open. How in the world did it get there? It must have popped out of the ground like a mushroom.

Your heart pounds louder than the woodpecker’s racket until you see it is a doe and you are not meat hunting today. You watch her browse on acorns and enjoy her beauty, and wonder again about the conflict you feel shooting such a pretty animal, but knowing you will when the time comes, and enjoy venison cooked many ways.

It never fails. The doe leaves so you decide it is time to return to the real world. As you lower your gun to the ground a snort behind you snaps your head around and there stands the biggest buck you have ever seen, watching you intently. And your gun is 30 feet below. No matter, you would not have time to raise it to fire even if it was in your hands.

You watch as the buck bounds off, knowing this stand will be avoided for the rest of the season. But you have other stands and plans in mind. His time will come.

As you climb down, get your gun and start walking out of the woods, you wonder how anyone could consider such a day unsuccessful.