The New Life: I'm Back

I rested in the shade beneath the Russian olive tree.  The meadow was clear, the deer still finding their way to it. I sat and enjoyed the afternoon symphony from the birds in the cottonwoods. I thought about everything that has happened this past week.

Bowman and I are still together. Tuesday was rough; it was hard to face the fact that our relationship might have reached its end. I don’t want this to end at this point. We both agreed there are issues, and we are going to work on them. I watched the cows across the meadow. It was a quiet hope that washed over me. A hope that everything will sort its self out and we can get back to how we were.

I thought about this weekend and the amount of fun I had. I shot in an archery tournament in Omaha. The longest shot was 35 yards, it’s was a cake walk compared to our shoots. There were six of us in my division, I place second. I was elated when the scores came across the board 368 out of 500. That is the best I’ve ever shot, I hope that it continues into the league, but it’s doubtful. My bow is still not shooting perfectly. But then again who, besides Bowman, has a bow that shoots perfectly for them. There is always some sort of tweak; mine just has more then others.

There was a gentle shift in the breeze and I thought of Sonny. The anniversary of her death is quickly coming up, October 9^th. I keep thinking about my promise to her, the promise that I’d take a deer with my bow. I’m working hard on it, but I’d like to have that promise fulfilled for her by then. It’s hard to think about her death. It was hard to not drive by the range while I was in Omaha. It was impossible to believe that she wasn’t going to be there.

My eyes shifted to the corner of the field. The does stood there quietly making their way onto the field. I sighed leaned my head onto my knees and watched them. It’s been one hell of a week for everyone involved. This week started off with one challenge after another and it’s only Monday. Here’s to hoping the past doesn’t repeat itself and that this week straightens itself out….

The New Life: The Clearing

I sat in the clearing by the Russian olive earlier. There was no breeze but I shuttered from the coolness of the fall. About fifty yards away the muley does played in the fall sun. I watched them as I cried. I could feel it coming in my joints, the way I feel a winter storm coming. I closed my eyes and cried more.

There was a quiet rustle in the grass behind me. I opened my eyes and turned my head. There stood my buck, quiet, observing the human sitting in the grass. I was still in my work cloths, unprepared for the hunt. Today I didn’t want to take the life from something as my life was being torn apart. He snorted and perked his big ears towards me almost reading my thoughts.

I looked away and left him. He stood quietly for awhile. While I cried he stood there starring at me, as the rush of tears faded he snorted then walked off towards the does. Mid way he stopped and turned to look at me, almost inviting me to come, I ushered him on and he joined the does on the meadow. The ache grew stronger as I thought about just a couple of days ago Bowman and I had sat in this exact place watching those exact does.

My heart shattered in my chest with this thought. The gentleness of the sandhills has always been able to soothe my soul. But today it couldn’t fix the heart that was breaking. I sat in the grass most of the morning, I had left work early. The amount of pain was unbreable and made it hard to excute my job in a professional manner. I sat in the grass unable to move. To think about where we started and where we are now kills me. To think about what might be lost rips at my being. And it’s all because I let the stress get to me. Sonny would be ashamed.

She always told me living by a plan was the wrong way to go about things. It’s a part of me, it’s a part of my ocd. If I don’t know what might happen then I can’t function. I look back at where we started seven weeks ago and think about all the good times. They say that’s when the end is near, when you go back to the beginning. This time they are probably right.

I wish Sonny was here today. She’d wrap me in her arms and cuddle me until the pain left. She’d have some wise words and some way to help me through all this. But alas she’s not here and I’m left to fight through this on my own. If I could push it to the back of my mind I would, but unfortunately when you feel for someone the way I feel for Bowman, it’s hard to not want to fight to keep the relationship. But fighting would only make it worse. So I’ll take the pain and deal with the only way I know how.

In the meantime my buck is safe, my bow is cased, I’ll probably never touch it again. Atleast not as long as the pain hurts. I’ll run off to Omaha this weekend and seriously think about moving back. This small town will be cold and I’m not sure I want to come back to it. There’s hope in Omaha, a fresh start. There’s the archery club I used to shoot in and my friends who might be able to convince me to get back to competing for a spot on the Olympic team. There’s the horse farms where I started my career. There is the option of school, and the opportunity to reconnect with my friends. Maybe that’s where I belong. Maybe my Momma’s begging wont have to continue. Maybe I’ll run from the only safe harbor I’ve ever had….

The New Life:

Last night I picked a fight, with Bowman. As the first words stumbled out of my mouth my brain screamed to shut the fuck up. But something kept the words coming. And by the time I had spilled most of the shitty words he was getting pissed.

The past two weeks I’ve felt pretty shitty. Overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted, why I don’t know, but the feels are still sitting there in my chest. The struggle to keep the pissy outbursts has absolutely consumed me. I wake up on the fight and go to bed on the fight. Yesterday I lost complete control. While it’s not a good reason or excuse it is what happend. This morning instead of the other feelings I am consumed with regret. What I said to Bowman was completely unfair. He does so much for me and makes all the time he possibly can. I don’t fault him for having a life, family, or friends. The honest and true Beck understands.

I hope he can forgive me, because I still very much love him. The real me is content with the relationship, she’s happy with every second he can give her. I hope he sees that…

Beck

A Bowhunter's Legacy: The Quiet Muley

I slammed the palms of my hands into the hard concrete. Pain recoiled throughout my arthritic body. I laid on my hands and knees panting in the cold fall rain. I had decided on three miles, I felt I was ready, but just as I reached the two and a half miles mark my knee had enough. Nausea waved through my stomach into my throat.

I lay down in the wet grass and tried to recover. In the distance I could hear the throaty roar of the thunder. I shuddered as the wet began to seep through my pink fleece coat. I began to cry, frustration settled as I realized I had done this to myself.

The tall drying grass waved in the cool settling breeze. I closed my eyes as pain screamed throughout my body. I tried a pain management technique I’ve learned, meditation. But it didn’t work; I couldn’t draw my mind out of the pain. So I lay as I waited for the pain to subside.  I’d been in the tall grass for about fifteen minutes when I heard something coming. I panicked as I rolled onto my stomach and sat up.

I met nose to nose with my buck. He looked at me curiously. The Big Guy in Camo’s story streaked through my head as my eyes widened, he had had a group of muleys try to trample him to death, but the buck gently touched his nose to my forehead, blew warm air, and then continued on his way.

I sat in silent shocked and watched him work his way down to the pond. I shuddered as I grew colder and realized my knee had quit screaming. I stood up and quietly walked home. The buck watched me pass then continued into the trees. I left him there, questioning if I had the heart to take him.

We shall see in the morning, I’m quietly hoping he disappears on his own accord, but then I think about another hunter taking him, it hurts more. We shall see where our continued path takes us.

A Bowhunter's Legacy: Full Blown

There is something about the wind through pines that seems to settle me. As I settled into my full draw I couldn’t help but think about how quiet the woods were. Thirty yard away stood a very nice buck, a buck that would have looked great on my wall. I say would have because, well he would have if hadn’t spooked.

I was taking my time settling the shake out of my bow arm. I saw him simply as one of the foam targets on the range. I settled my pin in the kill zone. Just as my pin settled I heard a car door slam up at the top of the canon. My buck raised his head and without any warning quickly dashed down the woods. He was out of sight before I could even think.

I was sitting there listening to the pines, starring through my empty peep sight thinking what the hell just happened. I groaned let the bow down and listened to the sound of the wind in the pines. I sat there waiting patiently in hopes he’d come back. He didn’t.  Of course there is always next time, but it never fails.

Archery league started last night. I scored a 353. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but considering the last time I shot an animal round I shot a 260 I’ll consider it improvement. I’m looking forward to the indoor season. It’s one of the things I enjoy the most league and competition.  Reflecting on where I was this time last year I’d say I’ve made leap and bounds as an archer. But what I am most proud of, the fact that I actually feel confident as a shooter.

As for the buck, maybe it’s meant to be. But still it’s really disappointing.

The New Life: P.S. I Love You

There comes a point in any relationship when you just know. When you know that your life will never be the same, when you couldn’t possibly be the same person without them, when you know that this is what love is meant to be. Today that point was solidified to me.

It hit me with a rush of happiness as I sat in the passenger side of the truck and looked out across the meadow. My eyes welled with tears as I realized he has my heart and I am perfectly happy with that.

As he sat listening to my granddad’s stories this afternoon I couldn’t help but smile. He seemed to be content listening to the old man’s stories about hunting and guns. As the gun show went on he seemed genuinely interested in the guns, guns that grandpa built. When we went to shoot blue rocks he encouraged me and told me when I made good shots. He built my confidence, instead of breaking me down. Because of that I improved, slightly, but its improvement.

When I sat in the passenger side of the truck and looked across the meadow into the sandhills I couldn’t help but fight the strong tears of happiness. I stepped out of the truck and choked them back. As he hugged me I kept from bursting into tears. It’s odd to me, these tears of happiness; I’ve never really had them before.

I’ve had that feeling, the feeling that he might just be the one, for awhile now. I had it before we even started dating; it grew stronger the first time we kissed, the first time he picked me up off the ground. I felt it at the range when he promised me we’d get my bow figured out before I left for Alaska. I felt it as I sat in the stands at the demo derby, when he made it into the main, and then as he stood on the hood of his car at the end of the race. It pounded hard in my chest the first time I rode on the bike with him. The first time he rode my horses I knew that hard pounding was for real. But today as it swelled in my chest I knew there was no going back.

Of course there will be times when I’m so upset with him I’ll doubt that feeling. But there is no denying it, I’m whole heartily in love with him, and there is no going back. He’s won the key to my heart and I am perfectly happy with that.

P.S. Bowman I love you the most. Ha I won!

Becks

A Bowhunter's Legacy: The Muley

Tonight he watched me move across the hard pavement with curiosity. We have rendezvoused at the same time for the past couple of days. He quietly stands watching as I take my evening run, not phased by the presence of a human. His muley horns have lost most of their velvet, and by opening day of deer season I’m sure the velvet will be completely gone. I’ve asked the guys if they have seen him, “the big five by six on the south circle.” No, they shake their heads, “Haven’t seen him.”

I paused for a moment as his eyes met mine, “Why do you only come out for me.” He snorted, raised his head and stared at me. He didn’t flinch or move a muscle. His ears twitched in the gentle sandhills breeze. Back in the trees behind him I laid eyes on two does. Their heads were raised also, but they were more nervous. They turned and ran off deeper into the trees, out of sight. He turned his head to look at them; he looked back to me and snorted again. “We’ll see.” I whispered then moved back into my run.

He was gone when I made it back to the gate. I imagine he had followed the does. He leaves me wondering, why he only shows for me. Each nigh he is in the same place waiting patiently, it seems, for me to pass him. He isn’t scared of me, isn’t nervous as my shoes hit the pavement, he’s content to watch me pass. His muley ears are always moving, listening to the hills around him. He’s keen and alert. The one time I passed him in a vehicle he ran quickly, but me on foot he doesn’t mind.

I’m sure when the time comes to draw on him I’ll be left wondering why he isn’t running. Maybe our paths were meant to cross, maybe he’s meant to be my first buck. But as smart as he is I’m sure he’ll disappear the first day of deer season, they must have a calendar somewhere that tells them what day deer season opens. But maybe he’s just meant to teas me, to get me pumped up for the season so I can take something just as big or bigger. Either way I’d be happy, if he’s staring at me on my wall or out in the pasture, he’s something special, I just haven’t figured out what yet.