I walked last week to the highest point on our farm just to look out over the country — high above the trouble and pain that is below. I went there for a reason; to try and picture life without my sight.
I closed my eyes and listened as the songbirds and crows chatted back and forth. I felt the gentle breeze as it blew against my skin, and ruffled my hair. Then my thoughts went to my childhood and a family that has been my friends for a lifetime.
The Mullins family from 15 Hollow in McRoberts has been more like brothers to me than just friends. Keith, Carl, Dennis, Chuck, and Donald have been important parts of my childhood and adult life. I was saddened when I spoke with Carl recently to learn he has lost his eyesight. Making this development even more heartbreaking is that Carl is a hunter. He underwent surgery recently, and his lovely wife Pat called me and told me it helped him some. For that I am thankful.
But as I said before, Carl is a hunter and I know in his heart that he longs to be back where the air is clean, the problems of this nation don’t exist, and where he can watch nature at it’s finest.
Carl and I hunted in the George Washington National Forest with the temperature around zero, camped with a tent and sleeping bag and not much of anything else. The next morning the snow was a foot high.
When you get a chance, call ol’ Carl and let him tell you of some of his hunts, including the time he got attacked by so many yellowjackets they couldn’t count all the stings.
Although my friend Carl may not be able to hunt again because of his sight, the flame burns bright in his memory.