Bill

My friend Bill is a judicious man; prudent, soft spoken and quiet. He’s usually not a man to use two words when one will do.

We attend church together and although I rarely see Bill outside that venue I have no doubt that his behavior, tone and demeanor would be the same on a Tuesday afternoon at Lowe’s as Sunday morning at First Baptist. This is a comforting thought.

A couple of weeks ago, while our Bible teacher was telling us, by way of Paul, a few of  the evils afflicting the 1st century Corinth church, Bill slid an envelope across the table in my direction. I  forgot about the Corinthians and opened the envelope.

Inside were a couple of tail camera snapshots of a 180 or better class buck. According to the time stamp on the photos, each had been taken about an hour before sunrise. One was from a week ago. One was from that morning. I’ve known Bill for several years. They were the first deer cam photos he’d ever shown me.

Bow season opens in about a week and Bill will be ready. He’s a skilled hunter. Whether or not he’ll get the deer is anyone’s guess. I would guess yes and I will probably be right.

Bill is on the downhill side of middle age. He’s a husband, father, grandfather and, of course, a hunter.

He also has prostate cancer. In keeping with his quiet nature it was an announcement he made with some hesitancy. All the tests have been run, a care plan has been make and treatment begins in early October. The prognosis is excellent, although it will almost certainly shorten Bill’s hunting season. He’s nervous. Any man would be.

Seeing a big deer opening morning might help. Bill said it would.

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