"You missed that one by at least there or four feet," chided Joe, "That’s not really like you to miss four in a row. Something bothering you?
"Had a bunch of things on my mind lately," said I pulling the spent 20 gauge shell from my Encore shotgun. "Think I’ll call it a day. Why don’t you keep hunting. I’m gonna go crawl off in the brush for a little bit, but only after I make certain we got everything set up for planting food plots. As I walked away I noticed Joe watched me with a concerned look on his face.
I walked back to the pickup, got in and drove back to camp to the storage building. Earlier in the week I had picked up numerous sacks of blended food plot seeds at Los Cazadores. I had also bought enough DeltAg Grow Coat to sufficiently coat the nearly 800 pounds of seeds we would soon be planting. Yeah, we knew it was dry, but applying Grow Coat to the seeds right before we planted them, I also knew it would increase germination, and cause the seeds to germinate quicker, create a much larger root system than with untreated seeds and thereby take advantage of whatever moisture there was in the ground. That too would create a hardier plant and one that was sweeter and more productive.
Rick stopped by the storage shed as I was standing there trying to determine exactly what fields we wanted to plant. Moments later he and I were drawing a map in the dust indicating exactly where we thought the planting would do the most good. Not only did we want to hopefully take some deer in the planted fields, we also hoped to produce sufficient forage to help the deer as well. True, our feeding program was tremendously helping the deer herd and greatly increasing the size of deer and racks, but it was also always good to provide a little extra green for them, especially if it was also good for them.
A plan created, we transferred the "in the dirt" drawing to a hand-drawn map showing exactly what fields we wanted to plant later in the month, approaching the last week of September. Experience told us in South Texas it is far better planting late than early!
I must have been staring off into space and not paying attention, because "This is the fourth time I’ve asked you, if you’re OK?" I heard Rick.
"Yeah, just a bunch on my mind; got a bunch of deadlines and wondering about some hunts. I’ll be OK. I get this way each year in early September. Got a lot of hunts coming up pretty quickly. Lots of television shows to do this year."
"Ever get tired of hunting in front of a camera?" queried Rick.
"Naw, not really! I get tired from all the travel, but never tired of hunting even if I do it in front of a camera. Still, there’s hunting and hunting for the camera and the two have very little in common other than you’re in the field with a gun in your hand." I said sort of half smiling. "If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go sit on a tank dam for a little while. Joe and the others are out shooting doves. Tried it, but couldn’t seem to connect today. No need in simply wasting shells."
I drove to a different part of the ranch to a hill overlooking the Frio. Got out and walked to a gnarly mesquite where I could watch a relatively open field. There was a windmill and trough a couple hundred yards away. Perhaps one of the old bucks I’d seen in the past would wander by. Last year I had seen a particularly impressive typical 12 point in the area, looked like he was either 3 or 4, if he increased any at all this year he should gross over 170. I had also seen a particularly impressive 8 point, with extremely long tines in the area as well. Even though it had been horribly dry throughout much of the growing season, and even now, what bucks I had seen the previous day looked better than what they had looked like last year. But then they were a year older.
My mind drifted and for a moment I must have dozed off. I snapped awake, just as a buck walked toward the trough. Quickly I raised my Zeiss binoculars. The buck was a good one, a basic 10 point with what looked like 5 kickers, and possibly some near the base that I really couldn’t see all that well. I watched as he strode to water, looked around then drank deeply before trailing off toward a nearby thicket.
Dove fluttered in to water as well, much to the apparent chagrin of a scolding green jay. I watched birds for a while, then once again dozed off and dreamed of an earlier day, forty years ago. There walking toward me only a few feet away, was the most beautiful female I had ever laid eyes on. She wore a gown of white. Her blue eyes sparkled. I felt as if my whole world existed within them. Her slight smile melted what little was left of my heart. I could not believe the beautiful creature was walking toward me. How could she ever have agreed to marry someone the likes of me?
Just then I felt a slight poke. I stirred and looked over my shoulder. "If you don’t wake up and finish that column you’re working on, we’re never going to get to San Antonio to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary…"
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