Saturday, February 28, 2009
Sunday Is For Walking
Sunday as a child I could be found tromping around Grandpa's farm, with a Red Rider BB Gun in hand, and one of the family mutts at my side. After church i'd have the whole afternoon, before Sunday dinner, to be wildly free from everything.
I think this is where my love of hunting stems from. My days wandering aimlessly reeking havoc on anything that moved.
Anything that moved ranged from my Uncles horses, neighbors turkeys, geese, ducks, muskrats, and the occasional stray cat. I rarely killed anything but there is something about a boy tromping through ponds, fields, and groves of trees. Not a care in the world and knowing I was completely free till I heard my Mom screaming off the back porch that dinner was ready.
Yesterday was one of those days, I returned home for Sunday dinner and I had a few hours of freedom. Lady and I tromped through Grandpa's farm once again, the only difference is that I didn't take my Red Rider BB Gun, and Grandpa no longer lives in the old farm house. Sundays are for walking.