October 3, 2010 § Leave a comment
Fall has always been my favorite time of year, even in the far-away land of my birth that hardly knew winter. I love the crisp, cool weather, the nostalgic feel of the dying greenery, the return of the wood-stove smoke, and the enjoyment of the rich, hearty, comfort meals of fall after the rich, hearty comfort meals of summer.
The fall colors in early October always drive me out of my house and onto the road so that I can capture them, be it with my camera or my memory, at the peak of their gold-and-scarlet glory.
Many joys await on a leisurely fall drive through the countryside:
The last of summer flowers on the background of dry weeds…
The golden splendor of aspens and maples…
The last of summer chicory…
Dry corn, rattling in the wind with that special hollow sound only dry corn rattling in the wind can make.
And apples… Fall definitely means apples.
But nothing says “fall” quite like the smell of gunpowder – in the air, on my fingers, and even in my hair, for fall is the time for hunting.
And hunting, at least in my case, requires practice.
Target practice that is.
These here are my new, first-ever deer rifle (da .30-30) at left, and my .22 at right. The latter is not actually mine, but my father-in-law has generously let me use it. I love to use .22s for target practice because the ammo of this particular caliber is cheap, and the skill that is being honed will be used for shooting big deer guns later.
Of course, I shot my deer gun as well. In fact, yesterday was the official “Christening” of the new rifle by the incense of sulfur and saltpeter. May it shoot me many a deer. Amen.