Footsteps in Snow

Every step, every shot, made with calculated intentions.

The snow crunched under the Hunter's boots as he began to slow his pacing. The frosted air came to life just beyond his face. As the white outline of his breath disappeared, he realized no more snow was falling. The silhouette of white tail footprints stood out in the welcomed sunshine.

He gazed at the giant trees perfectly dusted in fresh snow. Lost in nature's glow, he began to feel his peace. He became warm, knowing he was where he needed to be. The call to the wild is answered in the hunt. His warmth turned cold at the thought of what would happen if he missed. A clouded sky now stood before him.

Every step, every shot, made with calculated intentions.

Moving forward, he marched to the beat of nature's drum to do what he's always done. He followed the silhouette of whitetail footprints through the snow to finally locate a herd of deer just beyond some leafless trees. The trees stood bare and beautiful. A somewhat brighter sky presented itself as he found that perfect balance, a thing called hunger.

He heard the buck call. This time, he marched to his cadence as instincts took control. He crept. In time, the Hunter sensed the familiar distance and began to notch his bow. His vision narrowed down the shaft towards the deer. Breathing slowly, he saw no frost. Aiming for the heart, he took the shot.

Cold and beautiful, like snow.