After laying awake for hours last night, questioning whether or not I had made the right decision by passing on that small 8, I was finally able to get some rest. I knew in my heart if he survives, that perhaps we will meet up again in a few years...
My alarm went off at 6:15 this morning, as it always does... And within 5 minutes I was geared up and out the door. I was not expecting to see much, as mornings around here have been less than productive... Plus, being football Sunday, I usually give deer the free pass (Though it's always in the back of my mind which mammoth buck is going to walk through while I'm watching the game)
I get to my stand around 6:30 (a very short walk through the woods from the ol' homestead). The leaves on the ground were still soggy from last nights rain, and I felt unusually stealthy sneaking in with so little noise.
Off to a good start.
I get in the stand, get myself situated, cock and load the bow, sit down, and take a deep breath.
Silence. Overwhelming, and yet incredibly peaceful... The sound of nothing.
...twig snaps off to my left. Probably 30 yards out. Maybe less. I try to sneak a look, but the brush is so thick on that side I have a hard time seeing anything. I sit back... Wait... Breathe.
I close my eyes, trying to focus in on any and every possible sound. Listening for some evidence that something, anything, might be headed my way... Nothing. Not a peep. Not a whisper in the morning haze.
Damn...
I open my eyes, and there he is. 20 yards... Directly in front of me. Standing there, tall and proud.
His ears begin to focus in on something in the distance, his gaze steady to the west. I knew if I didn't act fast this beauty of a buck would be long gone.
I slowly raise my bow up to the windowsill... Line up my scope... And ease off the safety.
My heart is pounding like a drum in my head, the adrenaline has kicked in, and I need to stay calm...
I take two deep breaths, on the third... I squeeze the trigger.
I don't recall seeing the arrow, but I knew I hit my target.
He jumped, ducked, whirled and ran... For about 20 yards. I never saw him fall, but I most definitely heard it. He was down... And I, through the range of emotions that any true hunter feels when he takes a life, breathe a deep sigh of relief.
A quick, clean kill.
He was not the ten that I was after, but I do not regret for one second taking the shot... The fourth buck in my hunting career, and by far the largest.
A truly amazing animal.
I did not get any full body photos of the buck prior to dressing, and out of respect for him, I did not take any bloody photos after.
What tops it all off, is that I'm back here at 7:40, writing my adventure, and having my morning coffee...
It has been a good weekend.
A trophy by anyones standards 
