“Bri, it’s time!” my dad softly whispered into my ear.  It’s his classic phrase for waking me before we go to hunting.  Knowing that sleep was no longer on my side, I knew I had to roll out of bed and get ready for the hunt in front of me.  Exhaustion lingered as I slipped on the layers of my camoflage.  Last night’s anticipation to hunt was the cause of my unwelcome drowsiness.  Despite my desperate need to go back to sleep, I sucked it up and stepped out of the cabin.  As my boots crunched onto the frost-bitten leaves, I breathed in the fresh crisp air surrounding me, and I  thought to my self how it’s so worth getting up in the wee hours of the morning.  Dad and I had to skeedattle if we were to get to our “spot” before the sleeping turkeys awoke.  I started getting ready to setup, when I spotted our tree.  Making sure my spot didn’t have any roots hiding under leaves, I sat down, and within minutes, more fatigue swept over me from our rushed walk here.

Birds sung all around me, as the sun peeked over the horizon.  My dad pulled his slate call and purred softly a few times.  I waited for a turkey to gobble but nothing made a sound.  So Dad tried again only a little louder.  Bingo!  I thought, listening to a deep throated gobble and little wannabee’s.  “Bri, did you hear that gobble? It’s only about a hundred yards ahead of us, so get ready he’s coming!!”  Shockwaves of excitement pulsed through my body as the gobbler drew closer, mesmerized by Dads master calling.  Now only about fifty yards away, I thought its head should be popping up over the hill in front of us.  So I cocked the hammer of my twenty gauge shotgun and slowly raised it, waiting and daring a turkey to get in the way of my sight.  After ten long minutes of impatient waiting, I asked,  “What’s going on with the gobbler?!” Dad whispered back, “He must have a hen with him and she’s keeping him from coming over that hill.”  Soon, after the gobbles stopped,  he and the hen lost interest and walked away.

Drowsiness returned with a vengeance, and I slowly drifted off to sleep.  When I woke up I found Dad gathering his stuff up and he mentioned, “I think we should call it a day.”

“All right.” I replied.  As we walked back to our truck, I thought to myself, even though I didn’t have the opportunity to shoot a turkey, I still enjoyed another exciting morning in the woods!