Seasons

It all goes by so damn fast.

It feels like only a moment ago I was tilling the earth with the tiniest of green tractors; visions of a distant Fall and all of its adventures plying at my imagination.

Yet here I am, the Early Goose season has made way for Bow Hunting, and despite Mother Nature’s best drenching, this morning I hunkered down in my little boat amidst the wild rice and the wood ducks.

I may have even nabbed a limit if I do say so myself!

And so my time is no longer measured by days or weeks, but by the seasons that carry me forward. In the Spring I’m planting, in the Summer I’m crushing clays with my boy, and in the Fall and Winter all of these magical places speak to me in ways I could never put into words.

I am here now in the woods and more importantly in the moment. I cannot know what lurks just out of sight, but as my tree gently sways and the Aspen leaves rustle in the evening wind, I take solace knowing that I am in my season.