Narrative Essay On Open Shot

My frostbit toes ached from the chilled November air, as I watched a world class ten point buck trot through the thick brush. He wasn't twenty yards from my stand. If I let him walk ten yards he it would give me an open shot in the shooting lane. The shooting lane was downwind of me, and I didn't want to risk dropping this monster. Should I rely on my target practice and shoot through the brush, or should I wait for an open shot risking getting winded. I have always loved hunting and the outdoors. When I was four I would always play tag with my ten year old cousin John. One day John ran into the woods, being that he was a little faster then me I got lost trying to find him. I hollered and yelled looking for somebody, and hoping a bear wouldn't come.

I was found and brought back to the house. I decided never to go into the woods by myself until I was older. When I grew up to be ten years old I began to go into the woods alone. For my tenth birthday I got a bow-and-arrow. It was fun to shoot and I knew I needed to get plenty of practice before next fall if I wanted to go hunting with it. At first, target practicing was frustrating, but eventually all my practice paid off. I could consistently shoot a decent group from thirty yards. I was ready to hit the woods. By next fall I was confident I could drop a deer however I had greatly underestimated the intelligence level of the white-tailed deer. They could smell you from fifty yards if they were downwind of you, on a calm night they could easily hear the click of your release from twenty yards, and they could see you from over eighty yards if you moved at the wrong