MISSING A DEER SHOULDN’T KEEP YOU OUT OF THE WOODS
The early morning October sunlight sifted through the treetops and glinted off the white antlers of a small fork horn buck that was slowly feeding through the oak grove in front of me. I stood frozen in my stand, bow in hand, waiting for my shot opportunity as the deer gradually came closer. At 15 yards, I had my shot. I drew my bow and threaded the arrow through the hole in the hemlock branches, intending for the broadhead to enter just above the right shoulder blade, and out the opposite side