Where Is Your Trophy?

Everyone has his or her own definition concerning enjoyment of the outdoors. Whether it is just getting out in the woods for a stroll, hard-core trophy hunting, or those things that lie in between, it is still a valued opportunity we all seek and in Alabama, find. We are blessed with opportunity. We should all make the most of it especially when our youth are becoming interested. I am learning that first hand, as my eleven-year-old Hunter, begins to tag along with me. He is not searching for anything in particular; he just wants to be with me. Oh, he would love to kill a deer or squirrel but he is also interested in all the other wonders of this world. It is all new to him. As we have begun to explore the woods, he is easily side tracked from the hunt by a frog or a turtle. He asks questions and yes, many times he is too loud when he does it. He believes that surely, there are still Indians out here somewhere, and when we see one, what will we do? Personally, I feel I am at the height of my game when it comes to killing a trophy buck. I know the haunts of deer all across the state and I love to hunt them but that is not what drives me right now. Nothing compares to the psyche of youth. The mystery of the woods is burning in their minds. Often times however, these precious moments never happen because we begin to think only of that trophy with the antlers on its head. We put our youth off until tomorrow or tell them to wait until the weather is better never taking into account what is really being lost. If they are unable to foster a love for the outdoors with a mentor that goes before them, shaping their wondering minds and answering questions of the unknown, that trophy on your wall will be worth nothing. It has no meaning to them. The real trophies are the youth themselves. Those who will maintain what we love so much when we are gone. Are we teaching our youth that the antlers are the only thing that matters? I hope not. As my little boy drags his feet in the leaves announcing to all living creatures we are coming, I remember my dad looking back at me when I was a boy on my first squirrel hunt and saying quietly, “Walk like you are walking on eggs.” I turn to Hunter and say the same. Today, I still walk in the woods like I am walking on eggs and as I said; I am at the top of my game. In 30 years where will my little boy be?