It sounds like Independence Day out there. I've been counting and timing the popping sounds from over hill and yon, of which there have been very, very many this day. The spacing intervals thereof range from 1 to 3 seconds, with occasional pauses, either to check out the targets or cool off the barrels.
We are coming hard upon the season of the Odocoileus Virginianus Harvest, when everyone and all their brothers, sisters, uncles, cousins, in-laws, outlaws, friends, and neighbors take to the woods in hopes of making their freezers work overtime this winter. I guess someone is practicing now, and with amazing enthusiasm, I might add.
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| If this was me, I'd be heading for the swamp. |
If my name was Bambi and I was wearing a greyish-brown fur coat, I would be heading for the deepest swamp in the county right now and in a hurry too.
As I listen to the rhythm of the pounding lead...or steel, as the case may be...I am ever so grateful that I am not responsible for our optimistic neighbors' project(ile) budget!
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| The upcoming holiday may not be in the calendar, but it is celebrated with great enthusiasm |
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