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Deer Hunt Essay It is 5:30 am on opening morning of deer hunting season and my alarm explodes into a racket that would wake an army. I roll out of bed and rub the sleep from my eyes. I only slept six hours last night because my family and I were preparing for the hunt, getting the guns ready and laying out our orange clothes. As I begin to get dressed, the smell of fresh pancakes wakes me up. It is at this time I realize the season is upon us. Since January I have been waiting for this day to come. Today begins the annual nine day season that brings our family together each November. After stumbling down upstairs I go to the computer and turn on Da Yoopers’ â€Å"Da Turdy Point Buck†, the song our family must listen to before we head out the door and into the woods. With the song blaring through the house, I walk into my brother’s room, turn the lights on, rip the covers from his bed, and narrowly escape a swift kick from his leg. After a breakfast of pancakes my brother and I jump into his truck and head for the hills. We own 120 acres three miles from the house, so we must drive to our destination. Any other morning there would be no vehicles on the road, but this particular morning we pass about ten other trucks all taking their passengers to their particular hunting spots. Three inches of fresh snow fell last night, creating a blanket of freshness that reflects the last rays of moonlight. As we drive into our property we see fresh deer tracks and my heart starts pumping, I have been away from Minnesota for a few months and this morning is the first time I entered these woods since September. A few hundred yards into the woods we see three dear walking the road. They bound off into the darkness in flashes of brown silhouetted by snow. We park the truck and before we shut the engine off Jimmy tells me we will sit until 9:00, then I will walk to where he is sitting, and we will go home. We shut the engine off and do not speak again, for any human noise made will be heard by deer within a quarter mile. Trying to make as little noise as possible I walk to where I will sit. Along the way, I creep over a hill and see four deer. Immediately upon seeing me they streak through the trees; I stop and listen to their feet pounding into the earth, and realize there are many deer in the area and my chances of seeing a deer while sitting will be very good. After 15 minutes of sneaking through the oak and maple trees I find the tree I will sit in. My father set the stand in the tree a few weeks before my arrival. I crawl up and as I sit down it is just getting light in the east. I sit and wait. As it gets lighter and lighter I wait for the first gun-shots of the season, and sure enough, POW. The season has begun. I watch the morning pass by, an occasional raven flies by calling to its family, and all of a sudden something catches my eye. I look to the south and over the top of the hill comes a deer, my first deer of the season. I watch and realize it is a fawn; it is this year’s baby and is bounding over fallen trees and around trees. Right behind is it’s mother, they are running, probably frightened by some other hunter. I sit and watch these two deer trot right by my stand. Then for some unknown reason they stop thirty yards from where I am sitting totally unaware of my presence. They stand there totally alert, occasionally looking from where they came, their coats full of warm brown hair that will protect them from the harsh winter that awaits them. I watch them and I am part of the woods, I have become part of the tree for that moment. After a few moments the doe and fawn bounce away, into the unknown. I spend the next hour watching the woods for movement, looking for the slightest movement that will indicate the presence of some animal, maybe a deer walking through the woods feeding, or maybe a squirrel on its never-ending hunt for food. At 8:45 I get up and walk to my brother, the cold weather has found its way into my body through my many layers of clothes. I walk ever so silently hoping to find a deer over the hill, grazing in the field. I see nothing but when I get to my brother he tells me I drove five deer past his stand. We walk back to the truck and head for home, we didn’t shoot anything this morning but the hunt was a success, we both saw many deer and we were in the woods during the most beautiful part of the day. As we drove through the woods towards home I am totally content, there is nothing more I could have right now, the experience of being in the woods, and my family.