A flash of brown in the brush catches my eye and slowly I rise. Cautiously I reached for my bow. I watch intently as the deer moves closer, slowly picking his way down the trail. Stopping periodically, he looks back down the trail. He approaches the area directly in front of my stand, lowering his head, smelling the churned up ground at his feet. The scrape is large, almost five feet across and dug down a good six to nine inches in the center. He paws at it several times. A twig snaps and he throws he head up, again looking back down the trail. Slowly he takes several steps to a pine tree. The trunk, at least nine inches in diameter, has been rubbed bare. He places his head against the tree, his little spikes aren’t wide enough to circle the trunk, but still he rubs them up and down against the trunk.

A deep low grunt cuts through the air and he quickly moves down the trail and out of sight. I stare intently in the direction of the noise. A large bodied deer appears, his antlers high and wide, gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. He walks to the scrape and paws. I wait quietly, my bow ready, hidden in my stand high in the old cedar tree. He maneuvers himself around the scrape, but I don’t have the right angle yet for a shot. He finishes working the scrape and makes his way to the pine tree, smelling it carefully. He lowers his head; his antlers easily encircle the trunk. Finally the moment I’ve been waiting for, the moment I’ve planned in my mind for months arrives. My heart is pounding, the adrenaline flooding through my body. I mentally steady myself. He’s positioned perfectly and with one quiet movement I’m at full draw. I place the pin directly behind his shoulder and smoothly pull the trigger on my release. Carefully following through my shot I watch as my arrow disappears in the deer’s body. Instantly he lurches through the brush and disappears; I count off five seconds and then I hear a crash. All is quiet again and I lean against the tree shaking, a flood of emotion rushing over me.

I can’t help but smile as I play this scene over and over in my mind. It hasn’t happened yet; in fact bow season is months away. It’s a scene that first came to me when I found "the spot". It’s rare that I’m not looking for deer sign and possible hunting areas whenever I’m out in the woods. So one day when I was doing some scouting for the upcoming turkey hunt I couldn’t help but notice this particular place. The old scrape was quite obvious and surprisingly the winter debris had been pawed away, large fresh deer tracks in the wet soil. Looking around I saw the rub. Carefully working my way up and down the deer trails in the area I found a complete rub line from the creek to my "spot" and into the old orchard I normally hunt. From previous hunts I knew there was a big buck in the area, but the only opportunity I had to see him during hunting hours was during a doe only hunt and all I could do was sit and watch. I know from talking with the neighboring hunters that no one had taken him last season. Provided he made it through the winter I’m hoping he’s back in his old haunt.

The orchard has always been a place that draws many deer to feed, and for a long time I’ve guessed that the large bucks hang up in the brush on the backside of the orchard, waiting until cover of darkness to enter. The sign recently discovered confirms that. My stand has already been placed and camouflaged so there will be nothing new and unfamiliar when hunting season draws near. Periodically several drops of buck urine are placed in the area, a tactic that has been very successful in the past. My trail to the stand has been carefully marked and cleared of debris so as to allow a quiet entry.

I guess I have to admit I’m a die-hard, bow-hunting fanatic. Each time I make one of my forays into the woods and anywhere near the old orchard I can’t help but play out this scene in my mind. The anticipation will serve me well over the up-coming months in my preparation for the fall bow-hunting season. It will be a driving force, giving me the energy to make one more scouting trip into the woods when in reality I’m too tired to move. It will give me the incentive to shoot "just a few more arrows" at the target when I’ve reached a point when I think I’m as good as I can be, just to make sure. And yes, it will force me to pack the heavy old target back into the woods for some practice out of the stand to make sure my shooting lanes are clear and I’ve correctly estimated my distances. It will be the reason to make one more trip to the bow shop for a final check of equipment even though everything seems fine. It will be the reason to take even more care than normal of my hunting clothes, instead of dumping them unceremoniously on a bench in the entryway. The possibilities will only serve to encourage me, the anticipation driving me to perfection of my hunting skills; and in the not so distant future I will see a flash of brown in the brush.