As a youngster I had the opportunity to shoot a lot of game and I took advantage of it frequently. Looking back the numbers of four legged and winged creatures I shot seems staggering. I suppose the warrior instinct was the driving force of those days. But times have changed me. A gradual process I really wasn't even conscious of occurred in midlife. The elation of success taking a deer or elk began to be tempered with a sadness and increased to the point I seldom pulled the trigger, just enjoyed being out and having the opportunity. Often took a photo of a buck or bull I fooled, told him "howdy" and parted happy as can be with rifle in hand. The same has happened with birds though to a lesser extent. Ducks, geese, and cranes are safe with me around. Quail I still pursue with a passion but now I most enjoy watching the dog work, the fellowship, and the outdoors. More than anything else I enjoy standing back with gun open watching my younger hunting partner walk in on a point. Yes, over three quarters of a century has tempered me in a very comfortable way. I like it a lot.
