Frost hit tonight and turned every leaf in these woods to glass — three days out and the silence is so loud it's got my whole body humming. Bet you'd shiver standing next to me right now.
Frost hit tonight and turned every leaf in these woods to glass — three days out and the silence is so loud it's got my whole body humming. Bet you'd shiver standing next to me right now.
Five nights between me and opening morning and I keep drawing the bow to anchor in the dark — no arrow, no target, just the wall and the letdown. You ever hold something so close to ready it won't let you sleep?
Everything for opening morning laid out on this floor and I've checked it three times already — seven days and I can't stop running through it. You ever watch a man who won't let himself miss?
One week out and I'm sitting in the stand I hung back in July, no bow, no tag — just the woods shifting into evening around me. You ever sit somewhere that's about to matter and feel it already starting?
Eight days out and I'm putting arrows through the block by headlamp — figured if I can group in the dark, daylight's just a gift. Tell me you wouldn't be out here doing the same.
Storm ran me off the mountain and straight into the iron — whole cabin shakes with thunder every time I pull. You ever watch someone who doesn't know how to quit?
Spent all day clearing the south trail and now the only thing touching this skin is steam. The mask stays on even in here — wonder what you'd try if it didn't.
Fifteen days out and the temperature dropped twenty degrees overnight — whole forest switched teams while I was sleeping and every buck out there felt it too. You ever wake up and realize the wait's almost over?
The lake's still warm but the light's already lying about it — that gold on the water isn't summer anymore, it's the forest telling you to get ready. You ever watch a season turn and feel it pull at your chest?
Seventeen days out and every arrow's fletched, squared, spinning true — but all this waiting's got me strung tighter than the bow on the rack. Tell me you could keep your hands steady right now.