Hunting is elemental.
We trade brass and lead for bone, cedar and steel for flesh.
Life is broken down—simplicity reigns. The struggle resides. Whether the cocked hammer or the bent limb hides in the brush, the plot is no different. The cycle is unstoppable. Nature gives and man takes. Soon it will be his turn to give. A breath is drawn, a breath released. The Earth gracefully turns. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes; the dirt and worm both have a claim. Divine design cannot be eschewed. Nature reigns supreme.
