The countertop is filled with used hand-warmers, bullets and compasses. Farmer Rick has been emptying the pockets of blaze orange bibs, jackets and coats, getting ready to pack them away for another year. This is one job that I don't look forward to doing, but if the gear is going to be ready to go for next year, it all needs to be washed and packed away in our "hunting" barrels kept in the loft of the garage.
All-in-all, we had a wonderful season. Everybody got atleast one of their tags filled. We had a great time in the woods, tromping up and down the hills and getting great workouts that would rival any that they throw at contestants in those weight-loss programs on TV. The scenery in the woods can't be beat either. Once in awhile, we come across bitter-sweet vines that grow amongst the bushes in the woods. They stand out from quite a distance when there's snow on the ground. Beautiful. Just looking at the tree branches and how each and every one lifts toward the sky. It's as if they're praising their Creator night and day, lifting up their joy.
The only thing I don't like about the end of the season is seeing everybody pack up and go home. I still choke up when the last one pulls out of the driveway as they begin their journey home. Some travel back into a busy life that is so different from our own. But, for ten days each fall, we enjoy one another's company, and have a wealth of memories and stories to repeat over the years. I think that these good times together just adds to the "pull" that brings them back, year after year, to a long-standing family tradition that is being passed on to future generations.
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