Before to long I will be too anxious and not sleeping the night before the big day. I will be walking into the darkness, and feeling the bite of cold on my face. My breath will be like white puffs as I exhale in my hike. I will walk for what seem like forever to get to my stand. I will walk as quiet and deliberate as I can until I get there. I will then settle in and lean back again the tree and stare out into the blackness. Slowly the pitch black will give way to dull gray shapes and distant birdsong . Within a few minutes colors will start to come into focus and the foreign shapes reveal a more recognizable view. The frost of the morning will be clearly seen on tree limbs and leaves, birds in full song interrupted by the far off report of others on the hunt. If I am lucky a squirrel might stir from its den. He will scramble down a tree and across the leaf litter on the ground making as much noise as a elephant in the early morning stillness. I will fight off the last cold shiver as the sun shows it's crown over the tree lined horizon. It starts to melt off the frost and give the woods and everything in it a pinkish hue. Before long my stomach will start to day dream of breakfast while all along my fingers will twitch to be wrapped around a hot cup of coffee and my toes to seek a warm heater. Even if the hunt isn't successful there is nothing like watching nature come alive in the early morning. I can't wait.
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