The last day of hunting season (2015)
The sky darkens and groans
The crows issue hoarse gravely warnings
The boughs and leaves whisper and chat with the wind as it rises
Heavy trunks creak and chirp under the heavy weight of weather’s whim
Late autumn rain softly crackles as the glorious mat of orange and yellow
Relinquishes its vibrance one leaf at a time
Returning to the earth to rot
Before again becoming green
This is a time of change, of letting go
Summer’s last stand before fading into the frozen glory of winter
I sit under a spruce tree after a hard morning’s hunt.
A dead grouse in my lap
I ty to grasp the meaning of it all
What is a soul?
What did this beautiful mass of feathers and flesh possess an hour ago that is now gone?
And to where?
Deep rolling thunder shakes the air and adds a new quality to the quiet drops of rain when it subsides.
My feet hurt. Soles burn.
I don’t want to leave this place.
I’m not ready to move on. To let go.
To face the world of man.
But I know I must.