Kentucky bow season opened yesterday. The morning was exceptionally cool.

One of my favorite topics to share with young people is on the subject of time. While it is hard for them to grasp the concept of the brevity of time, I try to help them begin to see its value.

I can't remember a nicer August than we've been having in my area. It has acted more like May.

(Bringing back one of my favorite articles) Hilarious! That's always the only word that comes to mind when I think of Larry's first golf experience.

I don't know how many times I have crossed a ridge thinking I was some place that I wasn't. I don't know how many times I have crested a hill thinking I'll be able to see something I didn't.

Ever since I can remember deer hunting, I have dreaded July and August. Not because deer season is not here yet but because it will soon be.

The days are moving ahead at a steady pace. While 2020 has been unpredictable and unbelievable,

It's July and I feel a sense of pressure. I'm thinking of food plots and practice shots. I'm thinking we are two weeks from August and August is thirty days from opening bow season in Kentucky.

This time of year, the water level in the rivers are naturally low. Usually, the rains are of the thunderstorm variety and are not long, ongoing, soakers. This can make fishing harder but more centralized.

Are you obsessed over something? Has something gained your attention in such a way that you have made some drastic changes in order to accommodate that matter?

There is no doubt the freedoms I enjoyed as a child are no longer around. If a parent let their child do today what I could do back then, he or she would be brought before Social Services.

For over eighteen years there was one day that I looked forward to more than any other when it came to rest and time off. No, it was not Saturday or Sunday. It was Monday.

I met Mike and some of my North Carolina friends for a day of fishing. Mike is a striper guide and I have been with him many times when he has put everyone on top of a school of these fighters.

Another turkey season has come and gone. I spent the last several days chasing two gobblers that teased me every day until the season was officially over.

July will mark my seventeenth year of doing this column. It has been a very satisfying and life-altering period of time.

We are in uncharted territory. Covid 19 has not only affected my work life, but now my hunting life.

I love the outdoors, but you can be assured of the fact, sooner or later accidents will happen.

Immediately, I am reminded of a book in the Bible. It is only one chapter.

I was unable to scout before opening day, but I knew where the turkeys loved to roost. So, I proceeded to set up my decoys with a little bit of faith and a little bit of reason.

I'm embarrassed to say, my turkey season has been terrible. I've not been able to stay very late up in the morning, so I've been limited to trying to compete with hens after the toms fly off the roost. Early in the season, this is hard.

No matter how long you've been doing something, there is always a fi rst. This truth goes for turkey hunting and it goes for me. Let me explain. I had decided at the last minute to go hunting that morning.

As everyone in the world knows, we're right in the middle of a pandemic. Many people are falling sick, and some are dying.

It such a shame that time seems to be in lesser quantities as one gets older. It's not just age but the responsibilities that come with having a family, career, and expenses.

There's nothing like the sound of a gobble at daylight. If you're close enough, it seems it reverberates throughout the hollows and ridges. It will truly make you wide awake like nothing else.

As you know, our nation is in a crisis. The Corona Virus pandemic is beginning its trek through our country. Our lives will change for a few months, and some will forever.