Some of the guys I hunt with aren't especially fond of rising in the dark only to stumble around in the frosty cold of a Vermont November. It seemed I was about the only one who thrived on that kind of camp life so I decided to shame them out of their sacks. I worked and they rise when I do though they might grumble a bit...
I tacked this on the wall a number of years ago.
You Just Do It
It would have been easy to stay
Snugly wrapped in your sleeping bag
Insulated from the indifference of the
Creeping cold in the pre-dawn camp.
It would have been easy just to hit
he button on the alarm clock and roll over
But you can't do that.
That's not why you come here.
You come here to get out early
Before first light while the stars are still
Bright and the coyotes are still wailing.
To be sitting with your back against the
Broad trunk of an ancient tree waiting
For that subtle movement to catch your eye
When the predator in you comes to life and
Your attention comes as tight as a cocked
Mainspring.
So you sit up and try to come to full consciousness
Through the numbness left in the wake of your sleep.
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