Though there was enthusiasm, I admit it wasn’t with the same intensity as it was in October. My thoughts during the drive to my haunt for one last sit were consumed more with issues regarding insect and weed control than the allure of an unknown buck making his presence before me. Normally, I would be scanning the skies and thicket edges for flights of mallards and whitetails, respectively. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. The crick in my neck still reminds me how quickly I snatched my head around, almost in disbelief. A double take confirmed my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. Here it was the end of January, really February now, and the clumps of daffodils were there for everyone to notice. Vibrant, yellow blooms were waving to every passer-by, hoping to be noticed. It worked for me, and my thoughts lessened regarding hopes of the last buck of the season showing himself.
This last hunt was about as eventful as the rest have been. Other than a couple of weeks in December, deer sightings and buck quality has been sub-par at best. Don’t get me wrong, the two weeks before the Christmas cold snap were hot as a firecracker. It was common to see six to10 bucks per hunt when the rut was in full swing. It happened earlier this year than normal, which according to biologists is a good thing. The food plots were practically killed with the below zero chill factors, and have barely recovered even now. All the turnips, radishes, and collards melted to nothing. Other than providing a food source, food plots don’t interest me that much. I haven’t sat in a box stand overlooking a green patch in years. I’m more of a thicket sitter in tight quarters but this is just a personal preference, for I love the swamp and what it offers. I’m already thinking about this fall though, and preparations are being made for the upcoming season. I suppose the cliché which describes Mississippi football also applies to hunting… “Wait til next year.”
I never fired a shot at a mallard this duck season. Come to think of it, I didn’t fire a shot at any species of duck. Does this make me a conservationist, or a preservationist of waterfowl? You may ask, “Did you go duck hunting this season?” I did. I sat in a blind four mornings. You would be proud of me. The Friday morning before Christmas, when the temperature hovered around eight degrees, I sat with all my gear waiting for the push of mallards that was inevitable. Even JH couldn’t emerge from the covers to sit with me. Creed and I made the grade and we saw 15 or 20 mallards. They were in the ozone layer flying to parts unknown. With nothing to show for our efforts, Creed asked me if I was ready to pick up. I asked him what time it was, and he said it was only 6:58 a.m. We sat until 7:00 and headed for the house for some St. Lucy’s in our coffee. I’m looking forward to visiting with Ed Penney with Ducks Unlimited soon. His thoughts regarding our waterfowl will be interesting.
My dad used to say it was hunting season 365 days a year. He was correct. There is a lot to be done before we carry our bows, shotguns, and rifles, back to the field. Straps must be loosened on stands to allow for growth of the trees over the course of the summer. New spots must be found while sign is fresh. Don’t think these smart ole bucks don’t know where you are when you sit in the same place year after year. I may be giving one of my trade secrets away, but I bet you have noticed how deer know your entry routes and exit routes and how this plays a role in their evasive habits. Pressure is the number one factor that limits whitetail movement. The number two factor is also pressure. Can you guess number three? I bet you can. I am amazed at the number of hunters that disregard the effect of pressure and what it does to an area. I keep hearing the old saying, “you gotta be there to get him.” It’s comical and continuous pressure saves more big bucks than you’ll ever know. Old habits are hard to break, and I’m sure this won’t change.
It’s crepe myrtle pruning time. Bark scale and aphids will be searching for tender shoots of emerging growth on these species soon. Pay attention, and don’t let them create a mess with sooty mold. You’ll be noticing chickweed and dandelions sticking their heads up through your lawns soon. It’s time for heirloom tomato seeds to be planted in your windows and in the greenhouses. C’mon Ford, quit dragging your feet and get your garden condo ready for the growing season. Maybe I should take him to the grocery and show him the produce prices. Maybe this will build a fire under his feet. Did I mention eggs? It would be a good time to grow your own “hen fruit” if you could keep the bobcats and coyotes out of the henhouse.
I almost forgot to tell you this too. Have you ever heard the scream of a fox? The last two times I sat in my haunt, I heard the most blood curdling scream I have ever heard. It resembled that of a woman in terror. The first time I heard it I couldn’t imagine what it was. Then I heard it again. I don’t know what made me think to “Google” fox sounds, but there it was. A pack of coyotes howling at dusk will spook you as you walk back in the dark to your truck. Trust me, coyotes sound like a lullaby compared to the sound a fox emits. You must Google the scream of a fox and let me know what you think. Maybe Carl at Old Towne Cleaners will replace his mummy at Halloween with a fox scream. Of course, this may attract more goblins than customers.
It won’t be long before JH and I put our backpack sprayers to use getting ahead of the spring weed emergence. I’ll be tackling the re-occurring spot of brown patch for Lance and Vicki soon. I still don’t know why it pops up in the same place year after year. I suppose the fungus likes the “taste” of the original variety of St. Augustine. Black Kow, basic slag, and other soil amendments will be gently applied and tilled into Mother Earth soon. I am so ready for a fresh tomato sandwich. I may or may not add a few slices of crisp bacon to my creation. That’s between me and Dr. Sanders. As promised, if the hornworms and early blight don’t plague the tomato crop, I’ll deliver fresh tomatoes to you this growing season. If y’all know me well, I’m pretty good at taking care of the bugs that try and rob me of my Ozark Pinks and Celebrities. By the way, these are the best two varieties of tomatoes, at least in my opinion. Ford can make truckloads of Amish Paste, but then what do you do with them? I am yet to know.
All this talk about the end of another hunting season and the beginning of a new garden season means one thing. For me, it’s time to go back to work seven days a week. Well, maybe I’ll get a morning or two in the spring woods when the dogwoods bloom, but we’ll see. This also means it’s time to put “Outdoors in the Sun” on hold for a few months as well. I keep telling Jimmye and Wyatt that maybe one day I’ll be able to write full time, but alas, that time is not here yet. We work hard and we play hard. It seems the work part is winning out over the play time more and more each year. Maybe this will change in time, but for now, it is what it is. Deposits are being sent to outfitters for the upcoming treks out west. Of course, this is another reason why work endeavors take over our lives for a while. Hunting is getting more and more expensive, as is everything else. If you want to play, you gotta pay. I still think it’s worth every penny of it.
I can’t thank you enough for allowing me into your homes for the past six months to bring you our column. I hope you truly enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing for you. Writing is my therapy, and I am glad Jimmye and Wyatt allow me to share it with you. Thank you both for the opportunity. As always, I am looking for topics that would be of interest to our readers. If you have something in mind, please bring it to our attention. As you travel our country roads, take notice of what the woods and fields offer. If you see something interesting that you think would be worthy of sharing, please let me know and I’ll do my best to bring it to others in a creative way. Please stay safe and thank you again. I’ll see you this fall. Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
