A few years ago when my Father and I were both younger and much more ambitious, we would take excursions to the top of the hill and cut our firewood for the winter.
Our mode of transportation was my old 1972 Dodge pickup, a three quarter ton brute that would twist and creak as we climbed the mountainous terrain of our hundred acre woods. Usually the trip up the hill was made early in the morning before the fall temperature climbed and our movement slowed.
On one of these occasions we started about seven thirty in the morning for a day of tree cutting and sectioning. The sunlight sifted through partially changing leaves of the hardwoods that has always been home to us both.
The morning air was crisp and a heavy dew still covered the forest floor. We came to the spot up on top, we called the "Kettle Holes" because of the shallow holes that seem to be a prominant feature in the lay of this particular stretch of woods. The old truck grumbled along as we sought a place to thin out. We never stripped the woods clean and always had an eye on conservation. We always thought there might be a cavern underneath the hill because of the way the exhaust would echo and ring out in certain places on the top of the hill. The entire ten acre top dome of of the hill is one big bowl itself and leaves one to wonder about the ancient story of it's geology and how the bowl was formed.
After climbing out of the truck and gassing up the saws, we headed out on foot to find a place to start cutting. We had walked just a few feet when we came upon one of those "Kettle Holes" I mentioned before. Knowing we would have to either cross or go around we decided to go straight over the top to the other side.
There was a slight incline and we started up but as we approached the top my Father froze. He quietly gestured to me to be very still and I instantly saw the reason for his sudden silence.
Laying on his side with his eyes closed and sound asleep was a beautiful Whitetail Buck. He was the largest deer I'd seen in a long time. His antlers numbered twelve points and the sun was casting a golden sheen to his coat.
Now to see one of these is not so unusual for these parts but to catch one in such a state of unawareness and so completely relaxed is a rare event! We stood transfixed for at least two or three minutes before we finally moved.
My Father looked down and said in a normal voice, " What do you think you're doing?" Well, when this creature of woods heard this, he couldn't find his feet fast enough. He came completely up on his hind legs and bolted out of our sight in less than five seconds!
It was then and is to this day one of the most magnificent sights I've ever seen and will always remain a fond memory of those days spent cutting wood in those " Kettle Holes."
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