The sign and the symbol

Mike Martin

Oct 2

Opening day began with a series of hurdles that wound up putting me behind. Although behind was really only within the terms of how I view time.

Once I got to the lot I hit that flow state. Where you sort of forget about everything else going on in the world around, and just tap into the task at hand.

It was still predawn the air was nice and cool but the wind wasn't in m favor for plan A. Which meant I had to shift plans and much longer hike to reach one of the spots I had picked out.

Now this spot was a little lower down my list of destinations. Still in order to get the wind right that was the card I had to play.

Turning on the trusty old head lamp. I set off into the swamps. To give a lay of the land. Most of the inward hike was along a series of dikes.

The Parcel of land itself is managed for waterfowl. It was where I mostly called home way back at the start of this journey.

Along the way in I came across a single goose feather and then another, then another one. Each feather laid a few hundred yards from the last.

This was an on goes theme until I turned the final bend of the trail. Next to where I branched off was a pond where 3 geese were swimming.

I felt what can only be described as a strong magnet pull to walk the game trail. The trail was an activity use game trail. So I knew it had some good possibilities. After all I've taken deer and coyotes in that area in the past.

Where the story kind of takes it's spiritual turn is that it's the location I was staying in way back when. That's where I wound up finding myself spending the morning. Right back in my old camp.

It's an area I haven't spent much time in over the years, besides for a visit or two. I really found that twist to be an interesting one because of the way I've come into this season.

With mindset and theme of renewal and honoring where I'm at. To spend hours sitting in that spot reliving those old days was very surreal.

In this way that made me explore the idea of how, we can grow, change, and even become a new person. However it's the history of what we lived that becomes the roots of all that change.

You can never fully wash away where you've been in life. And I wonder why we would ever truly want to do so.

Since without footsteps we never would known the path we are on is out there. Without all of those lines on our skin or memories we try to ignore. Renewal is something we would never have a reason to celebrate.

To sit there in light of that full circle. Walking from that place, a small patch of dry land encased by the swamp.

Where I had nothing I could carry on my back or stole away in my truck. Feeling so broken down I had to hide away from life. My only saving grace and the safe place I could stand. Surrounded by the winged and four legged creatures of the land.

To know sitting with my bow in my hand. A man who has soothed those very beast that once made me run away in fear. To climbing mountains I never could had comprehended.

The moment that I fully understood why I was led to this space in my celebration came to light around the four hour mark.

When I was pulled back into the moment by the rustling of grass off in the distance. I drew my bow up and set to high alert has off in the distance was the sounds of a lazy approaching old mature doe.

As I set my pin on her and watched her fully come into range. That very moment I let loose with the bolt I felt the power of the circle and celebration complete.

I was to touch a second in time and to claim her as part of the cycle of life and progress.

We all meet the final words of our story one day. Whether we are ready, willing or not. Just like how our story begins so abruptly when opens with a cry. Those two point are not ours to decide. It's all of the space in between that is ours to write.

Even though the pages are filled with some glory and some many times where every crashes to the grown. We can not lose sight of our unique ability to define who we are.

I could tell this doe lived her story celebrate in the moment the jobs she was here to do. Now that her story is complete she has become a part of mine.

This is the lesson we can all walk through our days reminded of. Is how we all pass through so many different stories. We can not allow a change of sort to define the one we are writing.