Field & Stream


 for an hour and a half when the doe walked into the field. It had been an hour and a half of pure bliss. The trees were painted in fall colors. The blue sky was so crisp, it was hard to look at. I’d seen the tail end of a small buck cross the back field not long after I’d settled into the stand, so my head was on a swivel. The hunt had an air about it that anything could happen. It was one of those sits where you

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