Page 14 - OSCSCI Safari Trailst
P. 14
Hunting had been a part of my to do the same. I crouched be-
family for generations, and this side him, feeling the damp
trip was a rite of passage. earth beneath my knees, and
took in the world around me.
After getting dressed in layers, I
pulled on my heavy boots and The first slivers of dawn were
carefully lifted the rifle I had just beginning to edge over the
practiced with countless times treetops, casting everything in a
at the range. There, under the soft, muted light. The forest was
glow of neon lights, shooting waking up slowly, like a living,
had felt clinical, almost like a breathing thing. The silence I’d
game. But out here in the found oppressive in the dark
woods, the gun felt different. It now felt serene, almost sacred.
was cold and heavy, not just in I closed my eyes, letting the
weight but in sounds seep in: the distant rus-
meaning. I tle of leaves, the faint calls of
followed birds, the soft, rhythmic trickle
Junior Division Boy my dad of a nearby stream. Each noise
outside,
Grade: 8 Teacher: Matthew Belicek where the air felt magnified, as though the
forest was trying to tell me
Age: 13 School: Weleetka PS was sharp and something if I could only listen
closely enough.
biting, the smell
of pine and damp
Hunting: Sharing the earth filling my lungs. He hand- After a while, my dad reached
ed me a thermos of coffee. I over and pointed toward a fall-
Heritage : took a sip and winced—it was en log a few yards ahead.
strong, bitter, and as dark as “This’ll be a good spot to wait,”
**"My First Hunt"** the sky overhead. He chuckled, he whispered, barely audible.
his breath misting in the cold Together, we moved over and
It was still pitch dark when my air. “It’ll grow on you,” he said. settled in, rifles resting in our
dad woke me. I had barely slept laps. The minutes dragged on,
the night before, and it wasn’t We walked side by side up the and I found myself shifting un-
because of the lumpy cabin trail in silence, the only sounds comfortably, my fingers growing
mattress or the cold draft seep- the crunch of frost-covered numb even inside my gloves.
ing in through the walls. I was leaves beneath our feet and the Every rustle of leaves made my
excited and nervous, my mind occasional creak of branches heart race, only to sink again
replaying every instruction my swaying in the wind. After about when it turned out to be nothing
dad had given me in the weeks a mile, we reached a small but the wind or a squirrel dart-
leading up to this moment. To- clearing, and my dad held up a ing by.
day was my first hunt, and while hand, signaling for me to stop.
I didn’t know exactly what to He knelt down, gesturing for me …(To Be Continued) ….
expect, I knew it was a big deal.
