The Changing Of The Seasons

Arguably one of the best times of year is the two to three-week window where the weather teeters back and forth between summer and fall; not quite ready to give up to the brisk mornings of autumn, but certainly no longer in the constant summer heat. It’s when you find yourself grabbing a heavier jacket to check trail cameras in the early morning, only to be stripped down to a t-shirt when the sun breaks through the fog. There’s an ever-so-faint scent of high-bush cranberries in the breeze – not the smack-you-in-the-face aroma that follows the first hard frost, but it is there all the same.

At different points in our life, this in-between season was earmarked in different ways. As a child, back to school meant meeting up with friends you hadn’t seen all summer long. As a teen, school sports and extracurriculars began again. As young adult, it was back to school, but a little more serious this time, as there were thousands of dollars at stake as you walked into lecture halls and break-of-day laboratories. For those of us who have spent any amount of time outdoors throughout our lives, the shift from fishing and camping to taking the shotgun out for a mid-morning grouse hunt happens every year; some years more than others, as time permits and restricts those opportunities, depending on whatever else is going on in life.

 

Humans, as a whole, seem to be inherently susceptible to falling victim to the hamster wheel of life as we get older (and supposedly “wiser.”) Excuses for why we will do xyz activity another time pile up, because all these other requirements of a successful day-to-day life chew away at the last bits of our mental and physical capacity. Perhaps that’s what makes those weekend elk hunts or quick bird hunts after work all that more special? I find myself becoming more aware of just how much intentional effort has been put in by friends and family members alike to carve out pockets of time for their beloved hunting adventures amidst the flurry of obligations that seem to pop up at the changing of the seasons.

That diligence is a trait I have been attempting to foster in my own life, as others’ love for the outdoors, as mine, exposes itself in so many ways – even when life gets dang busy. It’s the memories of dad taking time after work to bring his daughters along on an evening grouse hunt, or meeting halfway between our communities to sneak in a morning deer hunt for a few hours. The friends in my life who have so much going on but never hesitate to lend a hand when they get that “bull down” phone call, or those who stop by the shop to lend a hand cutting meat after their own mornings out in the bush.

 

Going into yet another changing of the seasons, we are unbelievably lucky that this hunting lifestyle provides so many moments, both mundane and monumental, to escape from the rat race of life and forge memories that will be recalled for lifetimes.