I was looking up and cutting tracks down this lease road when I heard it. The maniacal laughter of coyote groups radiated beneath colors at the end of day. Laughter softens the cutting edges of this world’s trials and tribulations;
At this time in my area, every coyote has either been called, trapped, shot at, or all three. If you are coyote and you are still alive then you are doing something right. Sometimes I try to visualize the world thru his eyes, lucid eyes;
I try to visualize what he has seen of myself and other hunters who want nothing more than to do him harm. I'm sure we all search for those unorthodox measures to keep one's self against the grain. Methods to not be the guy calling a bunch in and not getting them killed. Educated coyote is tough to hunt;
I am sure these eyes not only look down upon the human race, but laugh and mock me at day's end while leaving the field. For this one, the last thing he saw was muzzle flash that relieved him of the tribulations of this world. The trials of other hunters no longer concern him, for the former things in his life have passed away;
They have every reason to fear us. Their fears are justified and rightly so. Yet, there is nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose.
Got that first round pop, while putting finishing touches on a spine shot;
I am really likening this little gun as a quite alternative and backup;
For my area this is considered a large coyote;
I do the right things in the wrong places, or maybe it is the wrong things in the right places. Not quite sure, but sometimes I get it in the right order;
Getting it in order and bringing them together one last time;
Laughter is the universal language that lives thru the ages, yet never gets old. Even our young understand it without having to be taught. As I age, I see that I am capable of complicating the simple perceptions of life. I saw in my children that the younger they were, the more they perceived tribulations as natural rhythms.
Natural rhythms as different and unaccountable things unfolded.
/Predators/HOMnomination_zpskztnelgn.gif[/img]
At this time in my area, every coyote has either been called, trapped, shot at, or all three. If you are coyote and you are still alive then you are doing something right. Sometimes I try to visualize the world thru his eyes, lucid eyes;
I try to visualize what he has seen of myself and other hunters who want nothing more than to do him harm. I'm sure we all search for those unorthodox measures to keep one's self against the grain. Methods to not be the guy calling a bunch in and not getting them killed. Educated coyote is tough to hunt;
I am sure these eyes not only look down upon the human race, but laugh and mock me at day's end while leaving the field. For this one, the last thing he saw was muzzle flash that relieved him of the tribulations of this world. The trials of other hunters no longer concern him, for the former things in his life have passed away;
They have every reason to fear us. Their fears are justified and rightly so. Yet, there is nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose.
Got that first round pop, while putting finishing touches on a spine shot;
I am really likening this little gun as a quite alternative and backup;
For my area this is considered a large coyote;
I do the right things in the wrong places, or maybe it is the wrong things in the right places. Not quite sure, but sometimes I get it in the right order;
Getting it in order and bringing them together one last time;
Laughter is the universal language that lives thru the ages, yet never gets old. Even our young understand it without having to be taught. As I age, I see that I am capable of complicating the simple perceptions of life. I saw in my children that the younger they were, the more they perceived tribulations as natural rhythms.
Natural rhythms as different and unaccountable things unfolded.
/Predators/HOMnomination_zpskztnelgn.gif[/img]
