Last Time for Everything

The morning chill on the mountain was just enough to make him glad for the extra layer of the turkey vest, laden with too many calls and shells. The added weight and altitude conspired to make the hike in more work than pleasure, but failed.  Dew from the grass soaked him from the knees down, but it was hardly noticed.

How many times had they done this? The late night planning and packing of gear, followed by a fitful attempt at sleep before a hunt seemed almost a ritual now.

The die had been cast in boyhood, when outdoor magazines fanned the spark of the outdoors into flame. Living on the old home place only added fuel to the fire, as pheasants, quail, rabbits  and a fishing pond were mere yards from the back door of the aged farmhouse. It was common to arrive home from school in the fall, walk straight through the house to the gun rack in the mud room and out the back door to hunt before dusk fell. While hunting alone was enjoyable,  hunts with his father were highly anticipated.

The actual number of times they hunted together were modest,  but they were kindling for a thousand pleasant memories. Those hunts became the launch pad for many adventures, some real and others still hoping to be realized.



This day's hunt was a first . They had never hunted turkeys together before. The day was pleasant, and turkey sign was discovered, but that bag remained empty. The hunt was also their last, though neither knew or expected it to be so at the time.

Age and illness took their toll and gradually robbed the father of the vitality needed to tromp the hills of east Tennessee. On a trip home this spring, the turkey gun that the father carried was passed to the son, who passed it to his son, for his son. The gun is now transfigured;  a talisman of the outdoor heritage passed from generation to generation.

Time and age are relentless, and deceptive. While it simultaneously crawls and races, we convince ourselves there will always be one more. One more cast, one more hunt, one more trip afield, one more conversation. But there is a last time for everything.



James 4:14 "yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes."

Carpe diem.