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"REASON FOR THE SEASON"
One
of the greatest gifts that God has given us is the wise stewardship and the protection of His creation. We have a responsiblity
to our children as well. That being, to always remember that the outdoors does not belong to us but rather we simply have
it placed in our care. For the future generations that wait, we decide each day whether there will be a place in the outdoors
for them tomorrow. One can not deny, neither can he truly measure, the impact that the great outdoors has had on so many of
us who call ourselves sportsmen.
For you and I there have certainly been many blessings that we have received
in our time spent afield. Yet I am sure that our reason for being there differs greatly among us. However, I am also quite
confident in assuming that more than likely it was our father, or perhaps a grandfather, who took us along when we were still
children. It was there that hopefully we learned that we are a part of, not an intrusion to, the outdoors. It was there that
we learned to respect our quarry and ourselves. For here, there is no referee to call foul.
We hunt because we find
that deep within us lies an urge that confirms that we were hunters before we were gatherers. We hunt because we desire to
be self sufficent, yet realize that we are totally dependent upon God's grace. We hunt because of the times remembered with
good friends who share in our passion and our love for the outdoors. As morning dawns and our surroundings come alive, we
too are stirred from within. For hearts that race at the snap of a twig or at the flush of a covey at our feet, you find yourself.
As seasons change from the lazy days of summer to the crisp mornings of fall, we make our way in the darkness to our stand
filled with anticipation.
You and I hunt because we are able to see the beauty in our Creator's sculpture of the
landscape. From ridges filled with a spectrum of colors that enlighten our souls and burn them into our memory of seasons
past. At the sound of falling leaves, both white oak and maple as they hit the ground in a pitter-pat fashion as winter winds
free them from their lofty heights. To the streams that wind beneath us and disappear in the distance, it is here that we
quietly sit and reflect, and come to understand that all was "spoken" into existence.
We are truely blessed in
that we are able to hear the morning darkness shattered by a mature tom gobbling to his maiden. From the woodpecker whose
work echoes throughout the bottoms, as he hammers away in search of an early morning meal. As we sit and listen to nature's
harmonic, all these things we hold dear in our hearts and realize that they are not a possession, but a prize. Therefore we
must ensure that the joy of our experience will endure for the generation that is to follow.
B.Stallings 2-24-01
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