If you’re like me the lure of the water and bush has completely claimed you. There’s no better solace than immersing yourself completely. Blending in and observing as part of the environment requires extreme patience but is rewarding. I engage this feeling perched high above the ground in a tree stand. My tree stands aren’t solely to wait for whitetail to cross underneath, release an arrow and be done with it. My time is spent observing and listening to everything around me. That’s much more cherished than the end game. There is an “end game” in mind, but a bigger puzzle is present.
My tree stand placement has evolved and is deliberate: it’s not simply to find a well travelled deer corridor, but to find one along the rivers I fish. I’m looking for a spot where the deer are crossing the river on the way to feed or bed, where I can also watch in hopes of spotting trout. Is there a hatch occurring? If so, what? What are they taking on the surface? Have they moved up into shallower lies, or are they holding deep? There are so many things that can be observed and noted while you sit in wait.
Each season we absorb new lessons – successes or otherwise - and pay those forward to our future hunts of trout and deer. Experience becomes knowledge. We start to understand how everything comes together. Moreso, we see the “why” behind each aspect of our engagements, how each facet creates undesirable or desirable outcomes. Sitting up in that tree is the root of the education: sitting, watching, learning.
It’s those days that you’ve decided enough time has passed, your “ground quarry” hasn’t presented opportunity and it’s time to sneak out undetected. Maybe you’ve been up there watching a huge trout rising to blue-winged olives in a seam, begging to be caught. I’d guess then you’d have a tough decision to make. Abandon fur for fins and risk blowing your cover? Stay put and take stock in knowing the fins will certainly be close by for another time? You have a huge trout in your sight, but you also know that your deer is surely a close neighbour by now. For me that’s a clash in my mind. It’s a monumental deliberation.
No matter the species, large, old, wild animals are so for one reason. They’ve learned how to survive efficiently, adapting when faced with adversity. In turn. it’s likely to take a good chunk of your life to consistently come face to face with them. The more you engage the hunt in their environment, the greater your ability to project into future engagement. Which of course leads to taking more opportunity to spend more time in the stand, waiting for one while observing the other.