Sense of Provision.

Wide eyed at 3:30am I sat up in bed and slowly touched the skin of my bare feet to the cold hardwood floor of my bedroom. My wife took back the covers that I stole and looked warm and comfotable. I was jealous in a sinful way. I guess the cold and uncomfortable is worth it sometimes. At that point my dad was on his way to pick me up so I became invisible with my shaggy camo everything, skipped my bowl of Smacks and hoped that he'd bring powdered doughnuts for the always quiet bumpy ride up endless dirt roads.

I was going elk hunting with my dad for the first time in over five years. I grew up hunting and fishing. Killing animals for food. Or was is sport? Back then it was more for sport. Or even truer, the way I was to become a man. I was very young when I figured out that my thumb and index finger could become a pistol, I was a reckless killer. There was always excitement and curiousity in the life and death of things, especially in the eyes of a boy. I am 26 now, will things be different this time around?

We worked our way up an old mining road that has been closed for over 80 years. It was nice to have a clear path while the sky was still dark. I'll estimate and say we were two miles in from where we parked. Our backs up against a boulder high above where the elk were guessed to be, we had an amazing view. The sun was slowly revealing what we had just walked through and where we wanted to go. It is funny how different things look when you can actually see them.

In this particular area that we were hunting the elk will move from low to high from morning to night. Elk will usually cut through small clearings throughout the day to feed so what we needed to do is find the paths (game trails) that they normal take. From our vantage point we picked out a clearing that was probably at best a mile and a half south from where we were sitting. We mapped out a plan to swing out west and then head south-east so that the light breeze would be in our faces thus carrying our scent away from where we wanted to be. About an hour later we come to the edge of this clearing and find that there are five to six small trees that are torn to pieces. This means that we were treading on a certain bull elks' territory. Our blood started pumping a bit faster because right down the middle of these rubs was a well beaten path that the elk have been taking. Our morning just got a little bit more exciting as we made our way up this path.

My senses hightened. All of a sudden I wished that I also had a bow in hand and quiver slung across my back. Maybe it is because I have a family now but I felt like I was supposed to be there right at that moment. I felt like I was made to hunt. I felt like a man with a purpose. Sport just became necessity. I was on the trail of a 900 pound beast of an animal. An animal that if the wind changes direction will know that I am within a mile of him. An animal that if I snap a twig beneath my foot, it would be a matter of minutes before he is over the next hill.

For some reason I am in front of my dad. This doesn't make sense to me because ever since I can remember he has been known to have "eagle eyes." Even more importantly, he has the bow. Nevetheless, with me leading, our claimed trail made its way into the dark timbre. Pine trees develop a canopy that turns day into night. It is a surreal feeling, inching forward on a path, being able to see at most 20 yards in any direction, concentrating on anything that could be a 900 pound animal. My eyes were crossing, I thought I'd seen some movement, it was a birds flutter of a wing, a moth passing through a slight beam of sunlight, the flicker of an elks ear. Movement for just moments. Stillness for minutes. We are playing the same game. Us and this elk. We know he is in there. Does he know we are here? Apparently not. My eyes shift to our left and I freeze. I see a huge set of shoulders, a light brown. My heart skips a beat or seven. Both my dad and I slowly position our camoflaged bodies behind a massive pine tree thus not relying on human efforts of printing tree bark on clothing. My dads eyes are bigger then I remember. He hands me his backpack as I peak around the tree and see the elk lift his head. How does this massive animal move so easily and quietly in here? His antlers towering to probably nine feet off the ground. He moves away from us, yet I don't think he knows we are sharing the same earth together. My dad goes left and I go right. I need to push this elk towards my dad. There is no chance for a shot unless this elks breath is so close it is felt. Maybe thirty seconds pass and this slow moving, silent animal dissapears. My eyes blink in an exaggerated way, just as slow and silent. Out of desperation I quicken my pace only to realize that our chance just slipped into the darkness of this day.

Blood pressure dropping back to normal. Our sense of time, dull. Our hunger is high so we sit on the edge of an open area and discuss what should have been. We eat the best damn Clif Bars ever packaged. I document our mood in a digital manner. A little dissapointed and confused but knowing that we just made a memory that is worth remembering. We treck on and study the patterns of these beasts for the rest of the day knowing that we may once again come face to face with our prey.

A simple day in the woods revealed some things for me:

1. I learned that I could be greatful for early mornings.
2. Sometimes it is good to be uncomfortable.
3. Purpose is fulfulling.
4. I love my family.
5. Powdered doughnuts taste amazing.
6. Elk smell like wet dog.
7. There are creatures that live in harmony with God.
8. Even the smallest of wild flowers are beautiful.