Food
(MS )
The loud exhaust of the ancient tractor was ringing in his ears as he made circle after circle in the pine plantation opening. Sweat burned his eyes when he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. His ball cap was heavy with dust and sweat.
He had sat in the deer stand last year, thinking about how the deer “yard up” in late winter. It had to be food, he thought. Everything else was out of the picture at that time of the year. Then, there had been the time he had found the winter killed deer and wondered often about it. Soon he began to read about deer habitat and the various pressures put on the deer through out the seasons.
Finally one evening while surfing the internet he had came across an article about wildlife food plots. It all came togather then, he knew what he had to do.
Research followed, on the types of seed mixes and the soil types most suitable. Each bit of information gleaned about the particular food plot situation not too far from his deer stand, led to more research.
Deer season had been long over when his soil sample results came back from the county agent’s office. He knew then, exactly what his soil needed and began to plan ways to get it to his food plot.
Lime delivery and spreading took considerable planning. Though not too expensive, it was a critical component of the food plot.
Ferterlizer in the specified amounts was carefully applied,
Then one warm day he realized, it was ready for the seed.
The seed had been ordered from one of those companies that specialized in forage for deer and other wildlife.
It wasn’t cheap. Good seed he had learned, was not cheap.
The seed blend had been specially formulated for his climate after he had sent the company his GPS coordinates for the food plot. The company had asked about such soil factors as the Ph noted in his county agents soil test report.
Arriving by delivery truck the seed package was heavy, and much smaller than he had imagined it would be.
Loading the seed into his old pickup truck he thought, “gold ” ! “Small, heavy and expensive, I will be seeding gold into that food plot !”
The evening weather report had said rain for tomorrow. He watched the weather closely the next morning. The previous evening’s weather report had been confirmed and the chance of rain was seventy percent.
It was time to cast his gold on the ground and wait.
Waiting, that was the hard part.
Would all of the variables he had thought about over the preceding months actually produce the food plot he had dreamed about ?
The local Game and Fish wildlife Officer had reassured him that he was on the right track, yet he had wondered.
The seed had been sewn as per the instructions, the rain had came as forcast, and the waiting was almost unbearable.
At first it was just a green haze on the food plot, then it became green stubble, and finally, it was a fully developed food plot.
The wildlife traffic into the area was amazing to him at first, but it reassured him that he was doing the all of the right things in his food plot.
The guys he hunted with had began to poke fun at him. Gradually at first, then, regularly, they began to call him “farmer”.
The second weekend in November came around, and he was in his stand well before daylight.
Later that morning when he arrived at the campfire where the morning’s events were told and re told, he heard as he drove up, “farmer is here” !
” Hey farmer, ya’ shoot any turnips or peas for lunch today ?”
“yeh, got em’ in the bed of my truck now, wanna’ see ?”
“Whoo Eeee!” His friend said as he walked up, “that turnip has eight points !”
After the story was told over cups of coffee, one of his friends threw a chunk of wood on the fire and said, “just how hard is it to make one of them there food plots anyhow ?”
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