Autumn is mating season in the north woods - for the deer that is. It's the season when deer act a little crazy. They become more aggressive than usual.
For instance, last year, a huge buck scared the ear wax out of my grandson and me. We were strolling down our dirt road, minding our own business, when we stumbled upon this “couple. " The buck didn't appreciate our interrupting his courtship, and he made sure we knew it. He charged at us, stomping and snorting, with his head down and his horns aimed at my back side. I jerked Cobi’s hand and tore out of there like a rat that had accidentally interrupted forty cats at a meeting of Mouseaholics Anonymous. Cobi didn’t know grandma could move like that! (I think I exceeded the speed limit. ) I was sprinting so fast I didn’t even leave footprints, and I yanked poor Cobi’s arm with such force that he flew behind me like a cartoon character, dangling horizontally in midair.
Of course, you can’t outrun a deer, especially if you’re middle aged and 300 pounds overweight. The deer overtook us as we ran, but it veered off at the last second, missing my behind by inches. It galloped past us and bounded into the woods.
We hurried home to change our underwear.
Mating season is also hunting season here in the north woods. That's when some people act a little crazy too. Don’t get me wrong. I know there are responsible hunters who practice safety while using a fire arm, but I’m talking about the gun-toting, booze-guzzling folks who swarm to the woods looking for an excuse to party and something to kill.
During hunting season, I can't exercise my dog, walk to my mailbox, or even sit out on my porch for fear of being mortally wounded. Call me paranoid, but a friend of mine was shot while standing in her kitchen talking on the phone. A stray bullet came through her front door, then passed through two interior walls before hitting her in the stomach. .
I can imagine how that phone call must have ended. “Oh, sorry to cut you short, but I need to hang up and call 911. ”
It's not unheard of for hunters to shoot farmers’ livestock and the farmers’ wives who dare to hang laundry out on the line to dry. Sometimes, they shoot themselves and each other too. I don’t care to risk my life by stepping outside when the woods are teaming with killing-crazed sportsmen who don’t know a cow or a woman from a white tail deer. It’s just my opinion, but I think anyone who can’t tell a person from a deer should not be allowed to hunt. I actually know of a man who can’t write or drive because he’s legally blind, yet he hunts. Gadzooks! You won't catch me walking in the woods while people like that are running loose with loaded guns.
Obviously, I'm not a fan of hunting season, but that’s not the only season I hate. I also dread allergy season, flood season, hurricane season, tornado season, football season, monsoon season, and flea and tick season.
The wise king, Solomon, wrote in Ecclesiastes 3 about the seasons of life people go through. There are seasons of happiness and sadness, laughter and tears, war and peace, life and death.
Many people hate the thought of dying; so they refuse to think about that season. They act as if ignoring death will keep the inevitable from happening, but eventually everyone must face the truth that “it is appointed for men to die. ” (Hebrews 9:27). When that time comes, “We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may be recompensed for his deeds in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad. ” (2 Corinthians 5:10)
Though many fear death, there is no escaping it. No one knows when his time may come, so maybe we should be preparing for it now. We all want to be among those who are ready when they face death. Are you afraid of that season of life, just as I’m afraid of hunting season? It’s a question we must each honestly ask ourselves. If you’re unsure, you may want to seek the answer in a study of the Scriptures.
Author of “Hugs, Hope, and Peanut Butter"