Monday, February 22, 2016

The Light Fades

There are a finite number of days. Even fine days spent with good friends come out of that.

Here's a story from Tom Reed at Mouthful of Feathers about friendship and hunting and what may be the last hunt.
"On our first hunting adventure, he handed me his .35 Whelen and I laid across a carpet of aspen leaves and felled a large buck mule deer with one shot. My own rifle was back at home, left because we were packing out a cow elk I had shot the day before. No need to carry my rifle. But then we rounded the bend and the buck was there, broadside. Elk in panniers on the horses and my own rifle at home. “Take my rifle,” he whispered. “Thumb the safety forward when you’re ready to fire.” Two hundred and twenty one paces out." --Tom Reed

1 comment:

LSP said...

I like that. Nice one.