The Saga of the Honey Hole, My Walden

The honey hole is quickly becoming my go to place.  It is not the best place.  It is not the most remote.  The deer are not guaranteed to move through.  I have only seen two bucks there in three years. The deer are ridiculously skittish and prone to go nocturnal.  But it is convenient to my home, less than a quarter mile away, isolated and there are deer, coyote, squirrels, and raccoons.   Public hunting land is nearby, but the proximity to the honey hole often wins out.  It's my Walden.

Last November, I logged my third and final deer of the season. Despite three hunts in front of hounds and several trips to the "big woods", fittingly my last deer was a doe from the honey hole.  A last minute hunt, during the middle of the day.

The season is over, but she will be there.  Each afternoon, I will walk my dog along the edge of my suburban oasis and invariably there will be whitetail deer to wave, "good bye".  Perhaps tomorrow I'll visit again, bow in hand and sons in tow to hunt squirrels and rabbits in the fresh snow.

Now, I turn to the flyrod and bassbugs; spinning reels and floats, baitcasters and cranks.  Standing in a stream, waders on, and "waving a stick"..... my favorite way to hunt.