Autumn 2006: A washout or wonderful?

To some, the term ďhuntingĒ implies a vision of the hunter being totally consumed in his or her quest of the prey. In reality, though, what occurs during any hunt is a cornucopia of lateral interests and activities of which the actual pursuit of game is but a very small part.

Take, for example, the average squirrel hunt I often partake of in autumn. On the walk to the woods Iím forever gawking at the distant hills that are ablaze in autumn foliage. Then I may be distracted by a passing flock of Canada geese or a small group of Monarch butterflies, gathering and preparing to migrate. Looking downward, I may spot a small white cluster of meadow mushrooms or puffballs, and the lingering memory of tasty fried fungi stirs me to make sure I take time to harvest some on my way back from the hunt.



Once in the squirrel woods, I try to concentrate on the task at hand, which is to add a couple bushytails to tomorrow nightís dinner menu. An acrobatic nuthatch thatís adeptly scurrying up and down a tree trunk, in search nearly invisible insects hiding beneath the bark, interrupts my concentration. I then marvel at how the tiny bird seems to defy gravity and wonder if the blood rushes to its head when itís clinging upside down to the tree. A rustle in the nearby fallen leaves catches and refocuses my attention. Then the tiny grey head of a shrew appears from under the edge of a leaf, like a tank commander peering out from the top hatch of his vehicle. The shrew, on a hunt of its own, reminds me that most of what occurs on this planet has to do with hunting, in one form or another.


There's more to this story! You're only seeing 25% of the story. Subscribe now to get immediate access to the rest of the story as well as our whole online offering.

Today's Other Stories



© 2014 Snyder Communications/The Evening Sun
29 Lackawanna Avenue, Norwich, NY 13815 - (607) 334-3276
We're on Facebook