A few nights ago I took a casual shot. I should warn you... this post may contain some graphic language that will not be suitable for some. I was standing on a small metal mesh platform 20 feet above the forest floor. It was "prime time"... those precious moments just after the sun disappears over the horizon when the forest comes alive and every animal in the woods is poised to act or react in their role as predator or prey. I held in my hands a compound bow capable of releasing an aluminum arrow at a speed of 260 feet per second. Less than 15 yards away was a coyote, scanning the timber, unsuccessfully using every tool at his disposal: instinct, sight, hearing and especially his legendary sense of smell in an attempt to discover what was wrong and what he needed to do to survive.
I had already drawn back my bow. All that was needed was to touch the trigger of the release. I was finding the right dot of fiber optic, preset pins that indicate distance...25 yards, 20 yards, 15. I didn't have a good broadside shot, just a spine to shoot at. The coyote was looking my direction, not seeing me standing motionless above him. Now I'm hearing something else trotting down the trail. Could this be the buck I've been waiting for? I'll have no chance at the buck with this coyote standing here. Maybe it's another coyote. Should I wait for a better shot, should I just let the arrow fly and nock another arrow for the deer? What if I stick the coyote and he runs away with my arrow? Is a coyote worth losing an arrow? Do I really want to kill a coyote? Maybe the coyote is the reason I haven't seen a deer yet this season. The footsteps are getting closer, I'm running out of light, I still don't have a great shot, I could dull or break my broadhead. What would I do with a dead coyote? Skin it? MKH would love having another dead thing around the house. All those thoughts and more come like the hundreds of leaves falling around me.
Two seasons ago I was standing in this same spot waiting for an eight point buck to step out from behind a tree. He was cruising fields and timber looking for a date for the annual rut. Instead of a receptive doe waiting in the bushes there was a broadhead, a hardened steel point followed closely by four razor blades on the end of a feathered shaft. Ingenious bit of death flying through the air, passing through both lungs and out the other side. Something happened. What happened? He took four or five steps and stood there looking around and in a few minutes seemed to get sleepy, he laid down, still puzzled, and now gone.
That was a careful shot. "Aim small, miss small" as the saying goes.
I released the arrow and in a split second it was buried in the dirt. The coyote took off like a rocket, as did the other coyote that was trotting down the path.
Disappointment and regret came over me as I retrieved my arrow. I did want the coyote, now I was sure. It was a casual shot, a hurried shot, a half-hearted shot, just to chase the animal away because it was in the way of perhaps my real prey. I won't make that mistake again.
How many regrets do we have in life because we are not intentional enough? In relationships, in work, in hobbies, with God. We just sort of fling an arrow at something, pointing at something, aiming large and missing.
Tonight I was back in my stand. "Prime time" came again. An animal came down the trail. It was a coyote hunting along the fenceline. He is downwind of me so he should smell me and run away like crazy. He doesn't. I'm complimented. Before I go to the woods, I shower and use scent killing soap. I wash my clothes in scent killing detergent. I spray scent killing liquid on my bow, my shoes, everything. That stuff must work.
He must be the reason I am not seeing any deer. Next time I'm in my stand I'll have a "rabbit in distress" call. That should draw him in. The challenge is on.
