The Smell of Dusty Grass

I can't believe that it's been almost a year since I last stepped foot afield. Since my return from the Midwest, empty handed last fall, the time has just flown by. Work has been busier than ever and with the travel that I do it always seems like there's somewhere to go. I no longer wake up in the mornings during a hunt and sit riveted in my chair waiting to get into my stand, there's always time it seems. Very few times have I gotten in and set up to have a buck within range in only minutes: so why rush? I've found it better to get in the stand just as the sun is coming up and I can see what I'm doing. In the dark I just seem to bang everything and make noises regardless of care. Deer being nocturnal can see me anyway, so again I ask: why rush? I have my Ohio hunt pretty much in hand and have found myself thinking more and more about my Nebraska hunt. Last fall I laid back in hopes of seeing a few of my east coast friends harvest a mid-western buck. two did, one should have! I spent much of my day sitting in the truck at the end of a draw patiently waiting to hear the echo of a rifle shot ring down the valley. Time spent like that gives you time to reflect. I was sitting by a windmill at the end of a 1 mile long prairie dog town, the wind was light, it was about 10am. Naturally a nap would have satisfied the moment however I was spending too much time thinking. I was thinking of my father, my life and my past hunting years and experiences. I somehow seem never satisfied in the moment and spend much of my time planning the next move. But not on this day, it was the stillest my soul has been in some time. Sitting there in the truck that morning knowing that there was simply no chance at all that a buck would surprise me allowed me to let my guard down a bit. My thought's came closer to my surroundings and weren't focused out at 300+ yards in anticipation, and it hit me. There was the smell of dusty grass in the air. As I stared out across the valley I noted that there was nothing between the river and I but several miles of field grass. For some reason at that moment: I knew I was home! In 28 days I return to those fields of grass and will once again feel that settled feeling however this year is different, I'm going to hunt! With a friend in tow I'll be making the 1800 mile trek out to my favorite place and even though my direction is to get him his first mule deer, I'd better not see it first..lol! This year, I have the itch! This evening as I write I'm almost overcome with depression, I'm growing tired of waiting for the season to open. I've prepared this year like never before and have for the first time completed preparation a month early, now I'm bored! I still feel the need to share emails and talk about the season to come. My thoughts turn to antlers as soon as my head hits the pillow at night and I can't sleep. I've played out every possible scenario in my head, I know where the buck will come from, how I'll prep for the shot, heck: I can tell you where he's going to lay down and take his last breath. I have way too much time on my hands! For those of you who have already began your fall hunting expeditions I'm sure that the reality of hunting has set in. The opportunities come too few and too far between. For me, I'm still in get up and go mode. I'm tired of practicing, I'm tired of washing clothes and I'm tired of packing and unpacking. I'm tired of waiting, I need to hunt soon! In 23 days I'll sit for the first time this fall in a tree stand, bow in hand, anticipating the days events. For me that's 23 days of agony, sleeplessness and tossing and turning. At this point I think I should just pick up my hunting gear and walk to Ohio, at least I'd be doing something related to the hunt. In the meantime I'll just keep surfing the web for things to buy, mostly things I don't need or already have and forgot. Much of my time will be in anticipation of the day I climb aboard my friends new F250 and head west. I am prepared and ready to go, just getting a little bored waiting for the day. It's the smell of dusty grass that tells me I'm where I'm suppose to be, Ohio or Nebraska, the grass smells the same that time of year. The rains have all but stopped, the winds rule the day and the winters snow is heading our way but not quite here yet. All of that leads to the smell of the dusty grass!