Page 6 - 2019 MAR/APR Outdoor Oklahoma

2018 CREATIVE WRITING COMPETITION

“DO I WANT TO GO HUNTING?”

EDITOR’S NOTE: Each year, the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife
Conservation and Oklahoma Station Chapter Safari Club Internation-
al join to sponsor a creative writing competition for Oklahoma middle
and high school students. A boy and a girl from two age divisions are
selected winners. Students were required to write essays using the
theme “Hunting: Sharing the Heritage” or “Archery: What I Like
About Archery in the Schools and Bowhunting.” Winners in the age
15-17 category receive a guided antelope hunt in the Texas Panhan-
dle, and winners in the 11-14 age category receive a hunting trip at the
Chain Ranch and a scholarship to the Outdoor Texas Camp. In this
issue, “Outdoor Oklahoma” honors junior category female winner
Annie Brannon, 14, from Chandler High School.
HUNTING: my choice once again, but not for long. I curled up in the

SHARING front seat of my dad’s truck and started to feel excited on
the short drive over to what my family calls the Fish Farm.
THE We walked over to my dad’s deer blind, and I did my

HERITAGE best to stay out of the way while my grandpa helped dad
get ready in the ground-level blind. I followed Papa along
By Annie Brannon the curving tree line in the pre-dawn light, stifling many

“Wake up, it’s time to questions. I almost ran into my grandpa as he stopped
go.” Confused thoughts and abruptly turned around to show me how to climb the
entered my mind: Go tree blind safely. As I stepped into the little white box, I
where? I don’t want to go found that Papa had placed two buckets with pads on the
anywhere. Can’t I just sleep? lids to serve as our seats. He followed with our things and
“Papa and your dad are getting ready. I have your coats revealed his “secret” stash of snacks from one of his many
in the kitchen.” Oh, right. Hunting. I had decided last pockets. We sat on our buckets and watched the opposite
night that hunting sounded like the greatest thing in the tree line, our breath rising in sparkling clouds.
world, but right now, at 5 a.m., I was definitely not feeling Silently shivering, I stared at the trees, willing some-
that way. So, I went back to sleep, or tried to. I laid there thing, anything, to move. Papa handed me a blanket,
in agonizing deliberation. Do I want to go hunting? Will rough and worn from staying in the blind all the time,
I get in the way? and scanned the trees behind us before settling back to
Finally, after what seemed like hours to a 10-year-old, stare in front again.
I got up and went to my grandmother’s living room and I watched him now, losing interest in the statue-like
curled up on her couch. I was hoping someone else would trees, and took note of how comfortable he was. He fit
make the decision for me. there like gears in a clock. His eyes moved across the field,
“Well look who’s bright-eyed and bushy tailed!” I heard following a well-worked path. His cracked, tough hands
Papa chuckle. My glasses were cold and askew in front of held the gun loosely, but ready to fire at any moment.
my half-closed eyes, and the only thing bushy was my hair. The posture of an experienced hunter was obvious as he
“Are you coming?” Just the simple question gave me sat there, completely relaxed, without a care in the world.
my answer. Fifteen minutes later, I was hit with a blast We didn’t kill a deer that day, but I didn’t mind. The
of cold air as the garage door opened, making me doubt memory will forever be with me.

4 Off the Beaten Path

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