Lilly Brogger, Hunting

The Lookout
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Monday, November 23, 2015 - 7:51am Lilly Brogger

Elk hunting, family history, and connection.

“Take me to the place I know, where the golden ryegrass grows, and the winds of heaven do blow…”

These words organize themselves in my mind and trail off as I blunder over fallen trees in the dark, thinking of where I'm bound. Clouds of grainy snow blowing into my face, I readjust my rifle to prevent it from slipping off the shoulder of my wool jacket. Finally, we are just a few yards from the treeline where rest awaits.

The wind blows as usual, and the golden ryegrass thrashes back and forth. Shivering, I rest my gun on the shooting sticks, waiting for light. As the sun begins to rise, colors dance over the landscape, making every feature jump out, like a live topographic map. Entire hillsides become illuminated while shadows fill the void between. My dad leans up against a tree, glassing for elk. The new light casts warmth upon us, a relief from the cold that comes with hiking and sweating. 

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