©2011 Bill Werle
Acrylic 16 x 20
I grew up in Minnesota. A part of that childhood was deer hunting on my uncles property just south of Duluth. He had 160 acres of prime deer country and starting at 12 I went deer hunting up there with my dad.
The first year I endured sub-zero temps sleeping in the back of the station wagon with my cousin because there was no room to sleep all of us in the shed on the property. Getting up at 4am to trudge through miles (well it felt like it at that age!) of snow to the stand and then sit still for hours until your feet were blocks of ice and your fingers were useless stumps of wood. I would not trade those memories for nothing.
One year I was in a tree stand on the edge of a field. It was foggy as the sun rose. I just knew this was my year. With adolescent optimism for fuel, I knew that buck was going to stroll into the early morning sun filtering through the fog. I knew....
I dreamed of this buck for years afterward. Never did see that buck in all my years hunting up there. Saw plenty of deer in the off season of course but never during the season. Oh but he visited me in my dreams a lot. Taunting me then disappearing into the foggy woods of my dreams.