It's over.....as the last light goes dim and the camps turn an eerie cold, the smell of frying bacon at camp has faded away along with the faint laughter and stories told. It's the quietest, coldest, loneliest night of the year in the north woods. The boot tracks along the trail to and from camp fill with snow from winter winds as the deep, dark forest returns to its keepers.
As one sits in front of a warm home fire miles away, reflecting on past years, past hunts and long-gone camp characters, you can't help but wonder who will be there in another year and what will change. There's an emptiness, a loneliness that sets in like no other, and for an old-time hunter like me, it's a heaviness in my heart. So we all wait until next season when we hope to meet again with our fellow hunters to experience the magical, mysterious ways of the tramps and trails of our place called simply "the woods." Good-bye for now old friend.....
~ Dan Christmas