We Can Fix It

From the pen (or keyboard) of a hard core hunter. I am that guy.... the deer hunter.... who lives it and breathes it. When I go to bed I think about deer and when I get up, I think about deer. I have 8 children with various age ranges and I have kept them in the outdoors. I do that for a lot of reasons but mainly because I can't imagine life not spent in nature. My kids though do not go to bed thinking of deer or wake up thinking of deer. Granted some are small like my little Madason in the picture here but some are not. So I wonder why is that? It is actually the one thing in the world that does bother me. I wonder why  the numbers of hunters across the country are dwindling each and every year. I have spoken with the State of Alabama wildlife guys and they say, it is hard to compete with the instant gratification generation and the PS3. What? That is your answer...you sound so defeated. You are our....leaders? I just can't go along with this thinking. In fact, I'm against it. I'm no genius but something is wrong. Something has happened. What was it and how do we fix it? While I go over this stuff in my head and beat myself up over the answer to a vital question, a man down the street by the name of Bill Blanton offered to take my 10 year old son on a coon hunt. I wasn't sure about it. I'm no dog hunter. Everybody is always complaining about the dogs running all over. But it was May, no harm in it, y'all have fun. Bill picked Luke up and they headed down the road.  I waited up on Luke hoping he was having a good time. Bill is older and has Parkinson's disease.  I just didn't know how it would go. When Luke got home, I saw something.....a huge smile. His eyes were bright, his face lit up. He had been on a coon hunt and he loved it. Bill thanked me for letting Luke go and he drove away. Luke talked for the next two hours. Over the next few weeks Luke kept asking to coon hunt. Bill knew he could not hunt much longer and began to give his hunting things to Luke. A light, a harness, some waders and then his prized dog. I began to hunt with Luke and by the time September rolled around our hunting party had grown to 11. Usually we had two adults and 9 kids. My pregnant daughter and wife went with the son in law one night with Luke's dog and low and behold they treed a coon! Our ranks continued to grow until it hit me at a tree one night. It was just before Christmas. The dogs were treed on the top of a ridge. The moon was full and the stars were bright. Our hunting party reached the place. The bawling of the dogs echoed out through the cold night. Surrounding the tree with lights shinning towards the sky in search of the coon were 9 kids and the 2 adults. I stood back and looked at all the lights, I heard the kids yelling, "I see him! I see him!" Luke had the gun and was zeroed in on a mission. As the lights lit the single tree and the two coon eyes shown bright I thought to myself.... this is my Christmas tree. This is the answer to my question. It is not the PS3 or the instant gratification generation. It is the treestand. We have vilified dog hunting in general. The casualties and collateral  damage has been beyond our ability to define it. We haven't cared to define it because the Trophy Buck is the only thing that matters. We have done this to the demise of us all and those in power cow down to the self serving trophy hunter. My hunting party went from one person....me.... to me and 9 kids, who blow my phone up every night wanting to know when we can go again. You want to know why the numbers are dwindling...ask me...I'll tell you. You want to know how to fix it...ask my friend Bill Blanton.

Just A Day

What a day we had last December squirrel hunting on the David K. Nelson WMA. That was 7 months ago. Seems like just yesterday. Already these kids look different. They have grown a little more, changed a little in appearance. I wish it was still December of 2011 because time is moving to fast. That little squirrel hunt is something they will take with them as long as they live. Their memories of the place and what we did will be stories they tell to their children someday around the fire. It was only one day but it meant so much to us all. This was a special day. We drove for hours, stopped at the gas station, got some snacks. We were in a place unfamiliar to them. Finding an old brick railroad column the kids made their way to the top and set up defenses. In the meantime our little dogs treed a few squirrels. At lunch we made our way to the truck and caught a nap. My wife drove down 3 hours to our location to pick them up during the lull of the midmorning. The three of us who were older stayed on for the afternoon hunt but the kids hopped in the SUV and headed for Oakman. It was well planned knowing the kids were woke at such an early hour they would be tired and they were. Watching them drive away with Melody was sad. But it was time for them to head out. That afternoon we kicked it up a notch and put those little dogs in gear. I missed the kids but I was 10 years old again myself. So were the other two guys. There is no age in the woods. Only a love for what you are doing. The same thing you were doing so many years ago when you were very young. The drive to hunt game is powerful. It doesn't change. There is always something around the next bend. Always a suprise or a reason to come again. It is 105 degrees in July right now. I am in my office but I can smell the mud of the Tombigbee river. I can feel my feet sink down in it as I look into the top of an 80 ft oak tree. It is quiet......very quiet.....shhhh. I can see him! I'm taking the shot.........

It's Hot but It's Time

It's hot but it's almost here. Today was, according to the weather man, the hotest day of the year. Heat index was 105 degrees. Tomorrow the forcast is 111. I know it sounds crazy but hunting season is 12 days away in Georgia. I hope to be there. Squirrel hunters can begin their quest August 15th. Ticks, chiggers, red bugs, mosquitos, nats, flies, snakes, spiders and the like are all alive and well. I assure you I will not plan to hunt all day. I have 3 squirrel dogs of which one is an ace, one is started, and one don't know beans. I hope to get them in the woods and get an early start. When then the Alabama season rolls around we will be well on our way, tuned up and focused. I'm sure there will be a price to pay. Personnally I hate chiggers and red bugs. With the leaves still green and growing there will be a lot of looking for a squirrels that cannot be found. But we will find a few. I can use the squirrels to train the puppy. I want to get four or five days under our belts before October 1st, the beginning of the Alabama season. Hunting very early and very late with much repellant we should be just fine. Hard to drive away from the green fertile waters of the Tennessee River and Lake Guntersville but the opportunity is too tempting for a short trip to kill squirrels in Georgia.

Don't know the name of the flower but it was pretty awesome to see.

170+

Roger Johnson killed this 170+ buck in the second week of December 2010. He saw the buck the evening before and let it go. Thinking about it that night, he realized the deer was actually a deer he should have shot. Fortunately the next morning a "hot" doe came scampering by and he was close behind. This deer is one of many that have went down in Walker County over the past 10 years. Taking deer management seriously, without buck limits, without feed, and without intervention, Roger and his buddies created a piece of property that is consistent in 160 plus deer.

Is It All Wrong

Buck management is always a hot topic. It is something that every deer hunter talks about and works for. Over the last few years the theory has been, shoot your does. The bucks get better quality feed and chase harder during the rut. Having fewer deer to breed, the biggest bucks must come out to chase around the few does that are left. Everyone liked the thought of having so many does we could shoot them at will. Even the term, "Just go kill you a doe if you want some meat," was born. I have noticed problems with this theory and I'm not alone. Starting with the fact there has never been research on this issue. Just copy cat tactics of other states. Quite honestly I've hunted these other states and wouldn't personnally follow their management practices, but we have. I am hearing reports now from hunters who say, "I just aint seeing any deer." Well according to the proponents of the three buck limit who told me 4 years ago, to give them 3 years to prove their point, big bucks should be behind every tree. So far I'm still waiting. The buck limit laws have not created the atmosphere it was sold on. I was talking to one of the biggest farmers in Autagaville just the other day who happens to run a hunting operation. He related to me that he has 200 cows in a pasture and 21 bulls. The ratio of cows to bulls is almost 10 to 1. If he went out tomarrow and shot 150 cows, next year his bulls wouldn't be any bigger. He would have a whole lot less cows in the pasture and a whole lot fewer calves but the effect on the bulls would be zero. What does have to do with the size of his bulls is genetics and age. Alabama has good genetics. You go to Eutaw Bait and Tackle and look around. These deer were grown when southern counties had corn and soy beans. Crop prices fell, timber companies stepped in and all these hundreds of deer had to eat was pine trees. Thus people began to see skinny deer with poor horns. Here is where the supplemental feed guys step in. They claim the answer is feeding or baiting to off set the losses. Well, if that was going to make a difference, it already would have. It is not illegal to bait or feed right now. It is just illegal to hunt it. If you wanted big deer, feed them, right now. But people will not do that. In order to get those big horns, deer have to be fed in May, June, July and August when deer hunters are elsewhere. No one feeds during those times. If you have checked the cost on a bag of feed lately you will see that's not a bad idea. It is to expensive for the average man to keep up year round. Therefore most hunters would go out two weeks before bow season and throw out 50 lbs of feed near their favorite treestand. This would do nothing to grow horns or manage deer. It is a lazy mans way of getting by. What is happening under the current management practices is that our "local" does, our breed stock, is depleated. Does do not roam very far from the place they were born unlike bucks. So when you shoot them out. All you have is a whole lot less deer, which is what we said in the beginning that the masses are beginning to complain about. All I'm sayin is without the research it is just an opinion by an Advisory Board, one of which whom stands to gain direct financial dividends, and researchers taking a shot in the dark. Deer hunters, you and I, know what we see in the woods. We know if the plan is working or not. Look at you club or your property. Where are you? Is the current system what they said it was going to be by now? Or do we need changes? Do we need research? Do you and I need to step in the ring and right the ship? Send me your comments bro's. It is not greater restriction we need, it is greater freedom to manage the land. I believe it is a shorter doe season and a more liberal buck harvest. Those practices only created the largest, healthiest deer herd in the United States of America. I find it very simple but....but it is not what everybody else is doing. I think my momma warned me about that.

Fighting For Forever Wild

A couple buddies and myself finished off an excellent 2011 squirrel season at the Demopolis WMA, now know as David K. Nelson WMA. I hope David K. Nelson was a good man because the greatest hunting spot in the world has his name on it. We took down 19 squirrel and this big boar coon. At the end of the day, some friends made a nice soup out of this old coon. No, No I didn't eat any of it. As a matter of fact, I didn't even hang around for the feast, I headed to Parrish Alabama for some much needed rest. Hunting behind a squirrel dog will walk you down. As my buddy says, P90X hunting. Had a great day anyway as I always do. The thing is, as wonderful as this property is, and you can see by the picture it is some of the best, it's future is temporary. What you and I call our back yard is a foreign land to many senators and legislatures. In my head funding for these area's is a no brainer. Anybody can see.......not so fast. They don't know and don't share our same understanding and passion for these places. They don't know how vital these places are. They've got a huge timber company in one ear promising campaign donations and perks for just a "little timber" harvested on an old remote piece of forgotten land. They've got others promising silver and gold and diverted funds from wild lands would make our schools the greatest in the nation and fill budget shortfalls. It's money, money, money. I have been on the phone fighting for our Forever Wild funding that makes these places posible. I am pleased to announce that so far not one single senator has voted against the funding. Yet, that was not so in the preliminary talks. Some questioned the need to put money into hunting and wild lands when this program and that program were under funded. It took many phone calls and persuation from a lot of people to make them understand what needed to be done. The fight is not over. We cannot rest until Forever Wild is refunded. Certain legislatures are trying to attach amendments that cannot win passage alone to a bill they know must pass and that is dead wrong brother. It is underhanded. Legal, but underhanded. Let Forever Wild pass and push your amendments on a stand alone basis. Right is right and I pray the dealings will be above board. Unfortunately, I smell a rat. One bigger than this coon I'm holding.

Time For Repairs

Bluebirds and other cavity nesting creatures are beginning to scout their future homes. It is both beneficial and rewarding to be a provider of just such a place. If you want a project, plans for these homes are all over the Internet or at your local library. Otherwise most farm and garden stores sell bird houses. Specialty houses like bat houses, squirrel houses, or wood duck boxes can be purchased from individuals and you can surf the net to find them as well. Old boxes should be repaired and cleaned for the birds arrival. Old boxes may look dilapidated but with a few nails and light repairs the birds may prefer them. You may hear that boxes should be a certain distance apart. I do not believe there is a formula for distance between boxes as I have observed several boxes occupied in one yard. Charting when you see birds nesting in a box is fun. You will find some boxes are more successful than others and not all boxes that are scouted by the birds are chosen. Charting will help you know which boxes are preferred and move the boxes that are consistently left unoccupied.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Where do we go from here? What is out there? Who is to say? My hope is that with a new Commisioner in place, there may be a ray of hope for those displaced by the Lawley regime. I hope that the will to exterminate me and my friends may have passed and that we will be recognized as the good soldiers we have always been. I remember a time when if a cross word was said about my advisory board, I would have drawn my sword and cut off an ear. Sadly, that is not so anymore. I have followed the Baldwin County Newspaper where much has been written about the new Commissioner. He seems honest. We have some common ground. We have some differences. Neither of which matter right now. What matters is replacing the existing members of the advisory board with members who will represent the people. We need members who believe in the honesty and integrity of Alabama's hunters. Punish the law breakers, educate the uneducated, and leave me alone. We need people on the board who are not "connected". We need people who are from the low, middle, and high end societies. Many call themselves hunters but few earn the title legitimately. Anyone can do a hunting show but that doesn't make you love it anymore than the guy who got off work at Express Oil Change today at 3:30 and hustled out to the WMA. The new commissioner will have a say in where we go from here. He will have the Governor's ear. He can replace these members. He can install an advisory board representative of the people with the peoples interest at heart. He can mend the fences or he can be a puppet of an advisory board out of control and corrupted by personal interest. The entire ocean is before us. What is out there? Where do we go from here?

Looking Ahead, Lawley Retires

Retirement is something we all hope to one day achieve. We hope to do it in a comfortable way. We want to look back and think that we made a difference. We want to know we put in an honest days work for an honest days pay. I wish Barnett all the best. It is no mystery that in a position like his, you cannot please everyone no matter how hard you try. This being understood, Barnett is not my favorite commissioner. As a matter of fact, I'm elated he is gone. One screw up at my job wipes away a novel of at-a-boys and I'm sure in Barnett's case it is no different. My major issue with Barnett was the day he made his way into a position of influence, he made it known his number one goal was to implement buck limits. I was 17 or 18 years old at this time and instantly set against him. During the same time Dan Moultrie was showing up at the advisory board meetings banging the drums of buck limits. Next thing you know, Barnett's the Commissioner, our old hero's are thrown off the board and Moultrie is the chairman. The advisory board we admired, that knew us, that was our friend, was hijacked. Before anyone in Alabama knew what was going on, the board had a new face and a new leader. We were going to be regulated into submission of their ideas, no matter what the data showed, no matter what the history was, or what the studies said. Worse than that, we were going to face regulation no matter what the people said. Kind of like the gambling machines. They were going to find a way. Barnett himself told me that in three years I would be thanking him for what he had done. It's been over three brother and I aint there yet. Many like me in the hunting and fishing world began digging the fox holes and laying out strategies to fight but most still believed in them. The thought was they will never do this to us. Well they did it. Hunters across Alabama were divided. Now here we sit. It's been the worst three or four years of my hunting life because we had no voice, no friend, and no commissioner..... at least one I would claim. It is my hope that the new commissioner will be our friend. That he will listen. That he understands Alabama's history and the quality of the Alabama hunter. This state and it's hunters are unique because there can only be one #1. I'm personally offended when they quote to me what other state's are doing because we are the leader's and have proven that with the largest deer herd in America by land area. Regulation, Big Government, the idea that government knows best and will look out for you, is going to be the downfall of the country and under Lawley, in the Game and Fish Department, a monster few knew existed. All this being said, I hope he does well in his retirement and has good health and happiness. I did my best in opposing him and it is over. If I could find something to say, it might be that his retirement has restored my hope and I thank him for that.

A Squirrels Hunter's Dream Dog

This is Mo. Mo is a squirrel dog extraordinaire. Because of his excellent nose, Hunter, Myself, and Jim Mays had a day to remember. Mo is a pleasurable dog to be around. Never jumping or licking us, he was always in search mode. He got in his dog box when he was told, he came when he was told and he hunted when he was told. At the end of the day he was where we wanted him, right at our feet. We didn't want to have to chase him half the night and we didn't. Unbelievably, Mo is up for sale. Now that's a shocker. When you got a dog like him you hang on to him right? Not when you got little B.B. on the hunt as well. B.B., a 6 year old female fiest can hold her on and one is all you need. The price on old Mo, 2000 dollars. Yikes! Now hold on. Before you get sticker shock consider a few things. Mo is a champion, proven, and tempored. Compare that to a dog, say a puppy purchased to be trained. You may only give as little as $50 dollars for the pup but you have years of training, hour upon hour of fruitless, silly, puppy days and lots of fuel burned ahead. Or, you can buy Mo, or another proven champion and go hunting. Invite your friends to come along and brag about your wonderful dog. They may want one just like him, then like you, they have a decision to make. What's it going to be? Puppy and training or big dollars and go hunting. I've had success in the puppy department yet many failures. Never had the big dollars but I'm saving up. If ole Mo is available in the spring and a few odd jobs come through, next year you will want to be with me if your hunting squirrel.

Tumbled Squirrels at Demopolis

Hunter, myself and Jim Mays of McCalla Alabama spent a great day hunting the Demopolis, (David K. Nelson) Wildlife Management Area. With two squirrel dogs and a lot of energy we took down 12 with Hunter doing most of the damage. Demopolis WMA is rich in game. If you like swamps, slues, and thickets, Demopolis may be the place for you. Most of the access is by boat only. It is an extra step but worth the effort. Most hunting pressure is on the most easily accessed property of course but if you are willing to adventure, thousands of acres await with generally low hunting pressure. From highway 59 south take the Union or "Dog Track" exit. Take a left and go to the stop sign. There you take a right. Stay on that road and turn left at the Eutaw Bait and Tackle sign. At the second stop sign make a left. Go and veer right onto Highway 43. Take 43, through deer country, all the way into Forkland. Leaving Forkland turn left just before you cross the railroad tracks going towards the Alabama Power Steam Plant. Stay on that road and the boat launch is on your left.

Other hunter's were dog hunting on the property but we didn't see them after first light. At lunch when we returned, they were gone. Don't let hunting pressure push you away. Hunt it like you own it because, acutally you do. It is state land.

In the picture above, Hunter zeros his 20 guage on a squirrel high in the top of a Water Oak tree. Right after this picture was taken, a large, fat, Gray Squirrel tumbled to the ground. Good job Hunter! And thanks Jim for bringing your excellent dogs and yourself.

CHECK IT OUT

BE SURE TO GO TO MY HOMEPAGE AND CHECK OUT

"PUBLIC WILDLIFE COMMISSION"

CHECK IT OUT

BE SURE TO GO TO MY HOME PAGE AND CHECK OUT

"HUNTERS WILDLIFE MANAGEMENT COUCIL"

Hi, Brady here. Taking a lazy day today. You know that the settlers at Plymoth Rock outlawed lazyness. Not a bad plan, although today I'd be in the pen cause I have enjoyed listening to the wind howl while I dozed in a warm Lazy Boy. You need some down time every now and then. Even while you are hunting or fishing. I know a guy who made it to the Bass Masters Classic this year. While pre-fishing a tournament with him one day, in the heat of the afternoon, we pulled under a shade tree and sat in the bottom of the boat. He got out his lunch and stretched out on the bow of the boat for some r & r. I said to him most tournament fishermen would say you are wasting time. His reply to me was recharging his batteries is always a part of his day. We relaxed in the shade, ate a nice lunch, and had some good conversation. When we pulled back out into the Alabama River heat we were ready to fish once more and that momentum took us all the way till quitting time. I like the plan and ever since that day, I have taken myself a lunch while out on the water. Some guys may be to intense for that and can fish all day. All I can say is my buddy is in the Classic. Laziness is not a good thing. Being smart is another. I don't know if I am being smart or lazy today because I am not on the water or in the woods. I think I'll just lie here and consider it in the Lazy Boy.

Happy Is The Man Who Hunts For The Right Reasons

Just returned from an awesome hunt in Georgia. I hunted the Cedar Creek WMA with friends and we really had a good time. You will notice in the picture above our Saturday night supper being prepared. We are in camp 4 nights but we only plan 3 meals. We traditionally eat deer meat on Saturday night, that is if someone kills the supper. Otherwise we are forced to eat leftovers. J.T. Russom in this picture has a few miles under his boots. He has killed multitudes of deer and many, many wiley bucks have fell before his barrel. One of the greatest things I have ever witnessed was J.T. hunting through a swamp or over a hardwood hillside. The way he slips through thickets, listens, smells, and watches for deer is masterful. I listen to his stories. Many would call him crazy but he speaks a language only buck hunters can understand. True buck hunters, that is. Not the ones who believe the bigger the antlers the bigger the trophy. Not the ones who scoff at a little buck on the ground. The ones who understand a trophy is what makes you happy. It is what brings you joy. On this hunt, J.T. now in his seventies, slipped through a wet, difficult beaver swamp looking at signs and tracks left behind by his prey. Glancing up he saw a deer sneaking out of the swamp. He watched it as it left. He thought in his mind what the deer was thinking. By the deers actions he knew it was not spooked. He knew the deer left because it heard something. He also knew the deer didn't know what it was. He figured out over the years where the deer's tendency was to go. He knew these woods. He knew the deer would be headed to the "Rock Pile" and would be there by this evening. Putting the wind in his favor, he slipped around the swamp moving quickly to get to the "Rock Pile" before the deer arrived. Never letting his mind rest, continually figuring where the deer would be, and what his options were, he arrived at the hallowed pile of rocks and sat just below them watching and waiting. His thoughts were correct. The deer arrived. A spike buck appeared with some does. Another hunter in the area had put them on alert. Working feverishly to level the cross hairs, he found an opening. A pull of the trigger sealed the deal and another successful hunt was in the books. Back at camp J.T. was very happy. He told his story, louder each time. He smiled a lot. He laughed all night talking about the old times and other deer he and others had killed. Every year he retires from cooking breakfast but the next morning he was up singing and banging pots and pans. He was happy. As I watched him make jokes and talk about those who had not killed a deer yet I hoped that in my seventies I could be as happy over a spike buck as he is right now. I hoped that I would never loose my will to hunt one down. I hoped I would never loose the ability to walk through a swamp and be a true hunter. Lord, may I never scoff at a young buck, killed by a lucky hunter. What is a trophy? Is it a deer you sit in one spot and look at finally determining, well I guess it is big enough, never looking at the land or figuring his actions. Is it climbing into a box and having a guide tell you to shoot or not to shoot. Or is it walking through the acorns, looking at sign, finding his haunts, thinking as he does. J.T. has spent hours lost in the woods because he just couldn't leave a trail. He has been cut, twisted, injured, ran out of batteries, lost a hat, ran out of shells you name it and he has done it. He does it to hunt a buck. He did and does what makes him happy. At seventy plus years he is still happy and he killed an exceptional trophy. Congratulations J.T.!

Looking for some good fishing? Go to Dauphin Island. Just across from Fort Gaines there is a boat ramp. Luke, in the picture is standing on the jetty that protects the ramp. From the end of the jetty, we cast out to sea. He and Hunter caught peacock snapper, croaker, flounder, and right by his feet we saw a fish somewhere in the 70 to 90 lb range and 4 to 5 feet long. It came by two times. Me, I never got to fish. All I did was bait hooks! Not a bad job though when the kids are catching back to back fish. We used shrimp and squid for bait. There is a lot of bank fishing at Dauphin Island. To add to that there were hundreds and thousands of crabs in the surf for the picking. They say they are excellent to eat. Watch out for the stingrays though. You have to do what the locals called the stingray shuffle. Means don't pick your feet up, slide them. If you need more info on hook size, bait, locations, or anything else about Dauphin Island, just send me a message and I'll see what I can do to help. Have yourself some good fishing and don't forget the filet knife.

On a beautiful October afternoon, Hunter and I walk the Mulberry Fork WMA in search of squirrel. Squirrel hunting is a great opportunity to spend time with friends and family, do a little scouting for deer and hone the skills needed to be a woodsman. Hunter is off to a good start and for me it is a chance to return to more simple ways and remember never to underestimate our furry squirrel foe. Although I had seen many squirrel in this area before, Hunter and I returned empty handed. I would say that is what keeps me coming back but I believe if I killed a squirrel each time out, I would still return.

I Smelled the Gun Powder

I Smelled the Gun Powder

Just this week in the blazing heart of summer a gentle breeze began to blow. It was just enough to give you the hint of an early fall day. Just enough to make me think of dove hunting with my friends. I realized although I love the summer, I live for fall. I remembered the excitement of someone calling, "Bird! Bird!" I almost heard someone yell, "Good Shot Rob-bay!" I almost tasted the dust of the field. The great God in heaven has given me a memory. He has given me a field, a bird, and a friend. Maybe that is why that cool breeze made my eyes scan the sky. Maybe it was because I could smell the gun powder.

A Unique Find

Recently while at Indian Creek Youth Camp in Oakman Alabama with the Walker County Wildlife Team, the county agent noticed a unique plant. It is called the Trillium. Only the agent knew what it was at first glance and he was quite pleased to find it. After further research I found out the Trillium is a rather peculiar and beautiful plant. Very habitat specific, it lives under the forest canopy among the understory. It is not widely found in garden shops due to the specific requirement of it's habitat. There are many different varieties of the plant and they all have wonderful flowers in the spring. Thinking about the Trillium, I realized I had not stopped in a long while and looked at the ground. I have not wondered enough about the things around me. I do not know what natural medicines are available. I do not know what this or that plant is. I do not know which plants have what color flowers. Where this unique Trillium resides is just off the main road leading to the camp ball field. No less than 150 people travel by this plant daily and no one even notices. Probably not even when it is in full bloom. If the county agent had not pointed it out, it would have been a weed to me. I don't see a flower. We know where Wal-Greens and CVS are though if we need something. What if.....? What if we had to make do? What if we had to survive? Could we? Not that this plant is used for medicinal purposes but the point is, I don't know what this plant is used for or any other plant for that matter. I didn't stop and say, "Hey look, there is a Trillium." I depend on corporations who depend on money more that anything else, myself and my kids included. I feel a duty and responsibility to look around me and know where I live. I need to know what is available. If I pick it up off the ground is it any less effective than if it comes out of a bottle from the drug store? Is it a liability issue that I trust the drug companies and if for some reason something goes wrong, I can sue them? Why don't I look at this plant and tell my kids, "This plant is a Trillium and it has the most beautiful flower." Would they even care? It would matter to them if it mattered to me. Well, it matters to me. I want to thank this little Trillium for a kick in the pants. It was truely a unique find.