I shot a doe at five yards- called her in and stood nose to nose with her before she walked around the black berry patch for a closer inspection. As she came around the right side on the only trail, I watched the arrow slide through her ribs, point blank, as if it were in slow motion. I hadn't intended on shooting a doe but the whole exchange seemed too perfect to not to see it through to the end.

I have made many long and medium range shots that aren't nearly as satisfyingly memorable.

I have had elk that close but never in the correct configuration- bulls at ten yards when cow only or cows at ten yards when spike only.


Someday.



Edited by JTD (12/02/12 01:33 PM)
_________________________
In the legend of King Arthur, the Fisher King was a renowned angler whose errant ways caused him to be struck dumb in the presence of the sacred chalice. I am no great fisherman, and a steelhead is not the covenant of Christ, but with each of these fish I am rendered speechless.