Thoughts from a Hunting Journal
In 2004, on the Internet, Tara found a realtor with some property listings. We called Grandma and Grandpa (Ma and Pa Fearon) and scheduled a viewing. Grandpa did the fieldwork and the day after Christmas we trucked through the snow to see the hundred acres with two ponds, an 1800-square-foot double wide, barn and hunting cabin. By April 2005, Grandma and Grandpa were moved in and the next chapter was about to be written. My fledgling family was but three and one and the whole world was ahead of us. The old farm was in desperate need of rejuvenation. We hoped we were up to the task. We set about cleaning out the old cabin and building bunk beds. We laid gravel, fixed the fire pit, and began the never ending task of sprucing up. The flurry of activities was quite similar to a beehive or an ant hill. There were old ATV and logging trails that needed to be reclaimed. All the wood from clearing those trails needed to be split. Trail cams were put out to find treestand hot spots. Those hot spots needed to be cleared, ladderstands ordered, built and raised. Grandpa bought a John Deere tractor and began altering the landscape. It was, and still is, some of the most satisfying work I've ever done (and some of the greatest memories I have made). I feel whole, complete, working outside on my piece of earth. People come and go but the woods are always there for me and, hopefully, will be there for my family long after I am gone.
(With the holidays upon us, it is that time already, to put my hunting journal and the memories it contains back on the shelf. It is time to attend to the Thanksgiving bird and be with family. It is time to be in the woods, to be quiet and listen to the world around me. It is time to make more tales that need to be written in my hunting journal so they are always remembered. I hope that everyone makes memories during this special time of year and takes a moment to remember some of the people or places that have been memorable upon their path.)