I arrived at camp with anticipation and wonder. It was my first hunting experience and I, personally, knew nothing about killing deer. I considered the image of me taking an animal’s life. Would I feel guilty if I had the opportunity to shoot the gun that lay encased at my feet? My grandpa ruffled my hair and chuckled at me while asking me to help him unload the truck. Maybe my grandpa, a true …showed first 75 words of 916 total…

…showed last 75 words of 916 total…a look of hopelessness. He stepped all over me with his steel-toed eyes. He then fell losing the battle. I sat there with a mixture of emotions. Was I supposed to be happy or sad that I just killed an animal? I refocused my thoughts, like focusing binoculars. What blurred my vision was the natural sentiment that comes with a hunter’s first kill. It was now sagaciously apparent to me, I was a hunter.