Posts Tagged ‘hunting season’
Granting Permission
During the nine days of the deer hunting season, the properties on either side of us become occupied by blaze-orange-clad individuals, and we adjust our travel patterns to avoid the edges of our woods. It becomes rare that we spot any deer wandering around.
When we first moved here, we quickly learned how important deer hunting is to the folks around us. The neighbor just to our south introduced himself to us by stating more than asking, “You’re not going to post your property ‘No Hunting’(.)?”
Our little subdivided plot was originally part of his family’s land, where he has hunted his entire life. We were okay with allowing him to continue his tradition and were interested in avoiding the awkward situation of dealing with the issue if we did object steadfastly.
I think he recognized right away that hunting was not something we were inclined toward, and he has always been respectful of that. One time, long ago, right before the season opened, he checked with us to confirm permission to cross into our woods if a deer that had been shot ran off. That was an easy request to grant.
He’s never checked again since, but long-term permission was implied, and only one time in 13 years have people from his collective of hunters needed to drive their 4-wheeler into our woods to retrieve a carcass. It’s been relatively quiet over the last five years, in terms of hunting activities around us.
Yesterday, while Cyndie was walking Asher down by the road, the neighbor stopped his pickup truck and asked her if he could hunt from within the edge of our woods. Cyndie said there was an awkward pause while she tried to figure out a response.
Our preference would be that we wouldn’t need to constrain our walks in the woods, but we do that anyway during the hunting season, so that doesn’t really make a difference. There is a small wish that our land could be a safe zone for deer to bed down to avoid hunters, but we own a dog that is always excited to make chase after wildlife, so it’s not ever really all that safe.
Cyndie said her response after the delay was a slow, uncertain vocalization of acceptance. It’s only nine days.
After the fact, I suggested she could have ditzily said yes right away, but add that she just didn’t want him to fire his rifle because the loud bang would upset the dog and horses from that close of a distance.
I almost got a deer yesterday evening while traveling over 60 mph on the way to a dinner party in the Cities. At that speed, I wasn’t going to be able to change the outcome, but the buck hesitated just enough at the last second so that our car raced past without impact. I could have reached out and touched him. It was nerve-rattling.
We are in his debt for granting us permission to pass before he continued his way across the road.
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Week Before
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‘Twas the weekend before deer hunting opener, and all through our valley
Neighboring hunters were sighting rifles, firing sequences of annoying volleys
With a snap and a caar-ACK!, the serenity kept being interrupted
Our precious peace and quiet, over and over was corrupted
For some reason, this year the gunshots appear to unsettle Asher more than we’ve seen in the past. The horses always get a little jumpy about the discharge of firearms. The annoying repetition of startling rifle reports is a fact of life around here this time of year, but this weekend was particularly bothersome. From the sound of it, the neighbors who hunt must have spent a chunk of money on ammunition this weekend.
I assume the reason the shooting was so noticeable is that they were doing the sight aligning in closer proximity to their residences and not off in the woods in their deer stands. The week before the deer opener is probably more unsettling than the two weeks of the actual hunting season.
We don’t have a heavy influx of gun-toting hunters flooding our area, so the numbers are limited, and the sounds of shots being fired tend to be restricted to the hours around dusk and dawn. Plus, they are only shooting when they see a deer, unlike what we experienced over the weekend.
You’d think all this shooting would chase away the deer to far safer places to hide.
I’m guessing it’s a buck who has been rubbing the bark off the young poplar trees in the north loop field, but I haven’t spotted him yet. In six days, the Wisconsin deer herds will begin having their numbers reduced. I wonder if someone will get him. It’s an annual event that has never been a part of my life. Since living here, it’s become a minor nuisance we observe for two weeks in November just beyond our borders.
The weekend before hunting season serves as a warning to our nerves and a reminder that it’s time to pull out the blaze orange outerwear.
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More Chews
This picture provides a great view of how Asher adores the custom homemade chew toys Cyndie has been creating for him:
After completing a craft project of her own, Cyndie wrapped leftover fabric scraps around chew toys Asher hasn’t been showing much fascination with for a while to give them new life. Adding a few morsels of smelly treats piques his interest and motivation to rip into the tantalizing new toys.
Even though they don’t last long, it’s fun to see his playful destruction occupy his mind with something creative when nothing else seems to be satisfying him for a moment.
I’m looking for all the distractions I can find to occupy him while deer hunters are out and about in our surrounding properties. Asher does not like being confined to quarters!
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Last Last
Honestly, even if the grass continues to grow, I refuse to mow in November. Yesterday will be the last “last time” that I mow this season. I’ve already mowed for what I hoped was the last time this fall three other times. Admittedly, the first “last time” was hopeful thinking that didn’t pan out. The rest could’ve/should’ve been the end of growing blades but warm sunshine and some rain have kept the grass happy and active.
Yesterday, I almost wasn’t able to finish what I started. Just after I got done cutting the front yard and was working my way around to the back, the mower shut down on me. I wondered if it was making a statement about also wanting to be done for the season. It was certainly the coldest air temperature I’ve been out mowing in –mid 40s(F)– so I wouldn’t blame the tractor for not liking it.
Turned out that it was a fuse that didn’t want to be forced to work on Halloween.
Now it’s November and that means deer hunting season is near. Already, the sound of gunshots is an almost daily experience as neighboring farmers are adjusting their sights and perfecting their technique in preparation for the big day. Delilah is ferocious about wanting to defend us from the sound of a rifle “carrrrack!” She rushes toward the sound until her leash abruptly hits its limit, barking all the way.
Then she barks some more. As in, over and over again, ad nauseam. Poor girl almost barked herself hoarse yesterday.
With the majority of our trees now void of their leaves, the sound of gunshots travels from miles around us, so it’s not just the next-door neighbors we are hearing from.
At least Delilah quieted down enough while on a walk that we were able to sneak up on a flock of turkeys that were hanging out in our field near the road. They initially thought about running away and then took to the air toward an unplanted field to our north, offering a gorgeous display of the emergency version of wild turkey flight.
The turkeys were probably loving that I had cut the grass short down by the road.
In case they are wondering, that’s the last “last time” I’m going to do that this year.
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Afternoon Survey
After work yesterday, I took Delilah for a walk to survey the grounds for the first time since Wednesday morning’s snowfall. There is a combination of areas where the snow has melted in the sun and spots where most of the accumulation remains.
There is evidence the chickens are moving around in the woods but when I found them they were clustered beneath the coop, most of them perched on only one foot. There were two eggs in a nest box that were probably on the verge of freezing.
The back of the barn looks like we’ve hung fake icicles as decoration, but these are all real.
In the woods, we didn’t find any new evidence of buck activity, but there is still a big scrape on the ground along one of our trails that hint of a decent-sized set of antlers. Last week, Cyndie found a hoof print that was almost half the size of her boot, so maybe both came from the same big fellow.
There is enough snow remaining on the trail to make it easy to spot fresh tracks if we get any more activity. Someone has been parking across the road from us and bowhunting in our neighbor’s woods. It is highly likely that any deer moving across our property will also travel through those woods.
The gun season doesn’t start until the 23rd in Wisconsin this year, so we’ve got a couple of weeks before we start seeing blaze orange-clad hunters traipsing around the neighboring properties.
At that point, I intend to refrain from doing a lot of surveying of the far reaches of our property for a while.
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Deer Season
It is quiet this morning, meaning, there have been few gunshots echoing around us. Yesterday was the opening day of the deer hunting season and shots were heard with regularity.
Even though the majority of land around us is cultivated for crops, there remain a fair amount of forested lanes and steep slopes where deer herds tend to travel. The farming neighbors who surround us on every side all don the blaze orange head-to-toe uniform and ply the hunt.
It’s a bit nerve-wracking.
I don’t mind them thinning the herds. The other main predator of deer seems to be cars and trucks, as the sight of dead deer by the side of the road is a daily spectacle. I recall that there was one in the road ditch of this property years ago when we came to visit in the weeks after our purchase offer was accepted.
The previous owners told us that one doe came up to the house and gave birth to her fawns in the nook by the front door. We did see a pair of deer in our yard frequently that first year after we moved in. Not so much anymore.
I figure it is a combination of our getting Delilah and the horses. We did add a trail through our woods, which actually opened up a new path for deer, but we subsequently began using it regularly for walking the perimeter with Delilah. The deer traffic became less conspicuous.
I’m sure they are still passing through. We just don’t see them as often.
The neighbors must still see them. They found a lot of reasons to shoot yesterday. Across the road from us, as I was returning up our driveway from the mailbox with Delilah, the neighbor-hunter group shouted a greeting, waved, and showed me they were successful on opening day.
For us, it means the horses are edgy, the dog is on high alert, and the nearby woods are alive with scanning eyes and booming firesticks, sunup to sundown. It is a brief anomaly in the sedate ambiance that usually prevails.
It is deer hunting season, and the hunt is on.
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Time Again
As predicted, this morning was warm enough that snow was sticky and melting. There was plenty of moisture in the air, but it wasn’t exactly foggy. There was something of a spooky feel to the ambiance of the ranch.
Delilah didn’t seem to care, as she pulled hard against her leash in a rush to get to the next scent that was always just beyond the one she just checked. The horses were out of the paddock, milling along the fence between the hay-field and the back pasture. They weren’t on the same side of the fence, which is nothing new.
Last night, Legacy was in the pasture and the other three were in the hay-field. This morning, Dezirea was alone in the hay-field.
Suddenly, a loud crack from a rifle echoed between the hills and the horses nervously adjusted their positions in response. I discovered that the pans of feed that I had set out last night were left untouched under the barn overhang.
A couple of the chestnuts had obviously been through the paddock to change their location, but apparently they didn’t bother to come up to the barn. It’s that time again. Deer hunting season started this morning at sunrise. Gun shots started last night. I guess they were making sure their guns worked.
More shots rang out. I’m not sure how far the sound carries, but it gives me the impression there are a lot of hunters in action in a relatively small area around us. How do they keep from shooting at each other, I wonder. And, are there really that many deer out and about right now?
If our horses are on alert, I expect the deer are just as keen to notice the sounds and would be inclined to make themselves even more scarce than usual.
I walked Delilah through the paddock toward the horses in the pasture by the round pen. Legacy responded to our presence and approached the closed gate between us. To accommodate their skittishness, I opened that gate to save them walking around to the one that we leave open. I guided them toward the hay feeder and then walked around to do the same for Dezirea from the hay-field.
More gun shots. The horses let the lure of the hay override their urge to flee. I wandered up to the barn and shook the feed pan, which initially startled their panic response, but then drew them up to eat, albeit in hurried fits of anxiety.
Delilah took full advantage of the all-she-could-eat-buffet of manure droppings that were reappearing within the melting snow, as I just stood calmly to assure the horses that they were safe. At the edge of the pine forest across the road from us, a lone figure in blaze orange appeared to be standing sentinel. His jacket must have been old and dirty, because when two figures appeared across the snowy field from him, their outfits outshone his to the point of looking electrically illuminated.
No sign of any hunting success. From the sound of all the shots being fired, it wasn’t for lack of trying.
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Single Digits
We received a bit of snow on Thursday night, and this morning temperatures are in the single digits. My usual ease with facing the extreme cold of winter has waned as I age, but I was pleased to find that adjustment came quickly for me, as I began clearing the driveway up by the house. In no time, I was removing my jacket and finding an easy balance of comfort in the cold, while involved in activity.
Sure, it feels cold if you just step out and stand still in the frigid air. What a great excuse to do something productive, or at least, entertaining!
After I finished the driveway, I walked with Delilah down to the labyrinth to make tracks along the pathway in hopes of establishing the route in snow so it will remain obvious throughout the winter. It was a delightful experience to be the first one to trek through the snow, enjoying the rare opportunity to see where I have been, in contrast to the portion that lay ahead.
Delilah has a bit too much energy to be limited to staying on the path, so she wasn’t much help with tromping down the trail. Plus, the arrival of snow has ramped up her energy immensely, as she gleefully celebrates the white stuff that has turned her outdoor world into a whole new playground experience.
Unfortunately, today dawns with new restrictions for our animals, as the deer hunting season has begun, and the woods all around us will be filled with the sounds of gunshots. The unbridled romping will be severely constrained for the next two weeks.
Cyndie reported that this morning, the two elder horses of our herd were stoically standing posts facing in opposite directions and were barely willing to suspend their surveillance to partake in the morning feed. They sense that the predator/prey operation is underway.
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Found It!
Cyndie found the mouse that the cats killed. They put it in the toilet. We are very impressed that they knew the mouse was something that needed to be disposed of.
Meanwhile, the horses have proved me wrong. I believe that I wrote about how often I find them lying down to rest in the afternoons, and that one of them always remains standing to keep watch. Yesterday, I looked up from my task to find that all four of them were on the ground at the same time. I guess they feel safe here. As I watched them, I noticed there was no traffic on our road and no activity underway in any of the fields or at the neighboring farms. It was wonderfully calm and quiet, even with the wind kicking up some fairly robust gusts every so often. I think their behavior is a reflection of the environment where they now find themselves living.
We are pretty happy with the place, too.
Now, the serenity is not without interruption. This time of year, there are an awful lot of gunshots spoiling the natural sound scape. Hunting seasons for a variety of animals start in September and run into December. The biggest hunt around here is definitely the deer season. It opens this coming weekend, so right now many hunters are preparing their guns, test-firing them and calibrating the sights.
We saw the horses startle at the sound of some of the closer shots later in the day yesterday. I’m hoping that the presence of our horses and Delilah will have rerouted the deer traffic away from our land, so the hunters will have no incentive to post themselves close by. I certainly haven’t seen as many deer around here this year as there were last year during the same time period.
I’ve posted images here on the blog of Delilah with her blaze-orange vest on, I wonder if we should get the horses some blaze-orange blankets. We definitely don’t want to have them wear antler hats for the next two weeks. I’ve heard stories that cause me to be uneasy during deer hunting season. Luckily, there are no strangers hunting in our vicinity. It is all private property, and the hunting is done by family groups that are familiar with the area.
I’m just happy our cats have finally decided to participate in some hunting this year. It’s the season!
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Relative Something 