My first deer.

I was 12 years old.

You could probably smell my excitement in the air.

It was a cool fall evening.

The sun was dying down.

And the moon was starting to peak over the tree line.

We were in the "fort" which is a hunting blind we built,

that was on big posts and was painted in camofluage.

The wood stove was keeping us warm

As the day was dimming,

and the moon was getting brighter.

You could hear dogs in the distance barking.

The field of corn ready to be harvested,

swaying in the wind.

And all of a sudden everything was still and silent.

You could hear a pin drop.

And all of a sudden all I could hear coming from inside the corn field.

CRUNCH!CRUNCH!CRUNCH!

Like they were walking on corn chips

Then two doe deer came walking out of the corn field,

and my dad whisperer to me,

"shoot that dear"

I took the gun of safety.

Aimed through the scope and without hesitation.

Pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The shot knocked me of my stool.

A few minutes later we collected the deer.

And headed home.

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