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SQUIRREL OPENER REKINDLES SPORTING TRADITION
By Steve McCadams
A long standing Tennessee tradition resumes Saturday morning with the
opening of the statewide squirrel season. It’s a great time to introduce
another generation to the great outdoors during the predawn hours.
Dads and grandads blazing a trail down old logging roads or sand ditches
in the wee hours, dodging spider webs and low hanging branches.
For many youngsters it will be their maiden voyage into the outdoor
arena. A guiding hand will help them cross fences or logs while all the
while making sure safety is at the top of the list.
Answering a lot of “what’s that” questions will be adults making a big
impression. The outing will be a lot more than just shooting a few
squirrels but the opening day of squirrel season is the catalyst that
makes it all happen, bringing folks together on this special occasion.
Bluejays will squawk the arrival of intruders to a sleepy, dark woods
despite all efforts to slip around and perform a silent entry.
Youngsters will step on those dry sticks and a cracking sound will
announce their entrance to the world.
Finicky squirrels headed to a hickory tree might be sluggish in their
arrival and allow the hunters to arrive and get set up as daylight slips
through the thick forest canopy.
A mistake or two is allowed as some noise might signal an alarm but
within minutes the critters of the wooded jungle return to chirping as
the world wakes up from a late summer sleep.
Watching, looking and listening are as much a part of the trip as taking
that first shot. At the hands of a mentor the youngster absorbs it all.
Now it’s time to apply the basics of gun safety and practice. From the
back yard to the wild woods. Careful loading of the gun and double
checks of the safety. Cautious pointing of the muzzle.
Staying still and scanning the treetops, watching for any sign of
movement as the busy tails bounce from limb to limb on their morning
breakfast commute.
Some scouting prior to the season opener helps determine where the grays
are cutting acorns. Finding the fresh cuttings help target the ridges
and trees where the prey is sure to show up.
If everyone is lucky it will be a quiet morning free of gale winds or
perhaps the aftermath of a rainy night where drenched limbs loaded with
raindrops help reveal the path and destination of careless, clumsy
squirrels.
Swatting away a few annoying mosquitos may require another application
of repellant or perhaps a spray or two around the ankles to ward off
ticks but proper preparation is all part of the learning curve. Minor
inconveniences on the path to being an outdoorsman.
From the high canopy comes that falling sound as a huge scaly bark acorn
fumbled by a young squirrel falls victim to gravity and makes a thud in
the midst of peace and tranquility.
Up above is a squirrel shredding away, dropping little bits and pieces
of the nut that has lured him to this locale.
Whispers from ole’ dad or granddad and a hand on the shoulder help
pinpoint the prey’s whereabouts. Buried in the foliage and using every
limb and leaf to his advantage is a finicky gray squirrel delivering
quite a challenge for a young hunter anxious to pull the trigger and
feel the recoil.
An empty hunting coat yearns to feel the bulge of that first squirrel.
On the road ahead will hopefully be many more steps and many more
outings. However, there will never be another “first squirrel” so times
like these are precious for all involved.
One day you’ll reminisce and wake up to discover that time has darted
far too fast. The one who introduced you to the opening day squirrel
woods had long passed but the memory is rekindled in the eyes of a
youngster anxious to begin a new journey.
In your memory is the vision of an old gray haired gentleman handing you
the gun and presenting the shells just before that first shot of the
morning.
Down the creek a spell is a placid puddle where the old spring mirrors
an image of an aging outdoorsman guiding a juvenile as they kneel and
pause on the path of life. Funny how history sometimes repeats itself.
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