Personal Narrative-The Best Way Of Life

750 Words 3 Pages
As I sit there in that stand on a cold November morning before the sun has even risen. I sit there in the darkness the cold breeze chills me to the bone, but I don’t care in those moments. I feel safe, and not just because I have a shotgun in my hand, but because as a child, my dad was always there and I always felt safe with him. Everybody in my family hunted: my grandpa, then my dad, my mom, my sisters, and, finally, me. Hunting was just a way of life; I never thought anything about it, whether it was hunting for that trophy buck, or just hunting to put meat on the table. As a kid, being out there in a tree stand or blind with my dad was -- and still is -- the best place on earth. There was one spot where I would go with my dad ever since I can remember. This area has an elevated blind, it is a couple acre field in a valley with tall dirt walls on every side. In this field, we plant clover, alfalfa, and brassica, which the deer absolutely adore; it’s like …show more content…
I like to go by myself because I can sit quietly and still for hours and not move a muscle. I almost always sit in the blind at the honey hole. Still, there are times I’ll go with my dad just like in the good ol’ days to make a few more memories. Since I was a kid neighbors have moved in, there are more dogs barking, and we haven't kept the field up like we used to. The honey hole has basically run dry. To me the honey hole is still like an old friend who has changed over the years but who I can always visit to reminisce about the good old days… but is still up for making a new memory or two. There aren’t very many deer, and the big bucks mostly stay away because of the noise. Yet if I get the chance, I like to hunt here because it reminds me of all those special times as a child with my dad. Over the years, both of us and my sisters have harvested way too many deer to

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