Slow down to “woods time”
It was West Virginia “Buck Season” — 1986. I didn’t know it, but I was about to learn a valuable lesson. I was sitting on steeply-leaning tree, which jutted out from an even steeper hillside, simply straddling the tree, as if riding a horse. A deep fork at the top of the tree made a natural rifle rest. I was young enough and foolish enough to enjoy using such an…
