Overgrown Places


by William Crisp


As you read this I will be well into my annual cross country “Egg McMuffin tasting tour,” otherwise known by some as “hunting trips.” I will be living on Egg McMuffins as I chase the wily, white-tailed deer across the Midwest, from Michigan, back to Pennsylvania, out to Iowa and maybe a brief jaunt in Indiana and Illinois. States that start with the letter “I” are good for the overgrown places best for hiding bucks.

There is no doubt I love seeing bucks; I’ve centered my life’s recreation plans on the concept. However, there may be a case of, “What came first, the place or the buck?” Since I was young enough to crawl off and get lost, I’d wander into thickets to play and there I’d stop and admire the beauty of the thicket. It may happen that since I was a youngster growing up in the well-used east coast, the thicket I was sitting in had once been a farm, a mine, a well, a factory, or a homestead and been abandoned.



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