It isn't every day that a bowhunter is serenaded with a flute solo while sitting in a tree stand.
That was the highlight of an afternoon deer hunt at Camp See No Deer, the little woodlot where a few of us have permission to hunt.
Progress is creeping slowly toward our beloved Camp See No Deer. A half-dozen new homes have been built in as many years around the perimeter. One comes with flute music.
All was right with the world during an evening of tree-stand meditation last November. The trusty recurve bow rested in my lap. A home-made wooden arrow was nocked to the string one hour before sunset.
A new home was finished about a year ago down the hill from a fallow field where I ponder life from my tree stand, dressed in camo from head to toe. Sometimes a miracle happens and a deer wanders by, interrupting my zen.
Evidently the family has a kid in the high school band. He or she was out practicing the flute in the yard, maybe for a big football game on Friday night.
I recognized the tune and started humming along. "Oh when the saints. Go Marching In. Oh when the saints go marching in."
I've been lucky enough to see two bucks fighting during a deer hunt. During another I watched a squirrel chase a doe away from its acorn stash. Now I was in the tree stand hearing "When the Saints Go Marching In" on the flute.
I didn't hear it once. I heard it 10 times that evening of music practice. All I could do was giggle. Can't wait to tell the other Camp See No Deer hunters about this one.
A tad later I got excited when two big does headed straight for my tree stand. Trouble was they were running about 90 mph because two little yap dogs were chasing them. Those deer ran right under my stand with two pint-sized white dogs on their tails
No doubt progress is encroaching on Camp See No Deer. Sitting and watching a gorgeous sunset, I wondered how long the hunting here will last.
For another few seasons I hope. One neat thing about Camp See No Deer is the landowners are vegetarians. They realize hunters are key to keeping deer populations in check. We're welcome to hunt, as long as it's archery.
So I look out at a sunset worthy of a calendar page. Evening light bathes fallow field, and I'm getting a private flute concert.
Can't blame anyone for wanting to build a home here, no matter what instrument he plays.
Flip Putthoff can be reached at [email protected] or on Twitter @NWAFlip
Sports on 01/12/2016