We have 133 guests and no members online
|Benefits of membership in WomenHunters™
A voice where you can submit an article about your hunt to be published.
Get a WomenHunters™ camo hat.
Get a WomenHunters™ decal.
Promote and have an ally in an organization that supports women who hunt.
Get in touch with your states' regional director about shoots in your area or support shoots yourself and become a regional director for your state. Free WomenHunters™ patch and chevron included!
Support a womens website with archived articles that are about women hunting by women hunters.
Get 20% off any advertisement for your business.
I am no stranger to deer. I have lived in places, like now, where deer present a real problem for flowers, tomato plants, and young trees. Where I worked from 2006-2011, the Flying H Ranch near Big Horn, Wyoming, each fall my job was 'deer fencing' which meant I had to fence in flower beds and trees before winter to keep the deer from eating them or attacking them as the bucks rubbed the velvet off their horns in expectation of the fighting/breeding season. The whitetail were constant visitors to my yard. Once I had a nearly ripe tomato, but the deer knew that too. The day I went to pick it, they had eaten it. I never knew they even liked tomatoes.
Where I live now, it is a constant battle to fence in my young trees, spray Deer Off spray on my flowers, and keep them out of the haystack. One year I had 'Susie-Q' an old doe who came up on my deck to eat bird seed that fell out of the feeders. As you might have guessed, I have a sort of a love-hate relationship with deer, and I would just as soon they stay out of my yard.
However, a year ago an early snow storm blew in. The yard and trees were covered in snow, and the deer decided that the snow in my yard wasn't as deep as the snow in the pasture, and that the snow-weighted tree branches made it easier to reach the leaves.
I was sitting near my picture window, the fire was burning in the fire-place, the sun had set and twilight was soft and gentle. Outside the window were about five deer, grazing on my lawn, standing up and reaching for the leaves on the elm tree next to the house.
The crackling of the fire, the soft twilight, the quietness of the house without the television, radio, or CD player, and the fact that outside my window were wild animals, totally at home, doing their deer business, eating, without a
care in the world, was so calm, so peaceful, that I couldn't help but feel that someone had cast a spell over the entire area. A spell of quietness, peace and calm.
I still remember that evening with fondness. The deer had no worries. They were just being deer. It was such an island of tranquility in an often stressed out world, that I hold the memory close to think about and remember that we are a part of nature, and we have to embrace her wonders as often as possible.
Alaska and the Yukon
North Alabama, Mississippi p
and North Georgia
To become a regional director
for your area, contact: