Bottom in Black and White

  The Good Doctor and I hunted the lake this morning.  34 and still with overhead stars.  Near-perfect conditions.  I dropped off into a B & W creekbottom and ghosted my way across the gurgling creek and up a deserted log road without a light.  Picked out a huge pine to sit against and watched the hillside come to life.  I didn't crack a dry leaf or touch a twig coming in.  With these soft old rubber boots give you every familiar root and hollow underfoot.  Nothing moved through the morning except flashing birds and darting squirrels but it's a good spot.  Absolutely gorgeous, (though cool) as I sat through the morning hours.  I went up the hill and found it ringed with fresh rubs, big ones.  Prime habitat and probably the core area of some huge buck.  The moving neighbors piled plastic chairs on the curb.  One of them is going on the logging road.

  Corn gone while nothing on the cam.  Coons probably.  I could hear people talking, dogs moaning, doors slamming, a sizzling shot from across the road with a "whomp" on the end.  I was shivering with cold toes when I came out, glad to be moving.  Sneed blanked as well except for dogs and squirrels.  The rut is over and the deer have shifted behavior again. 

Update:  Checked cams today.  No deer for the third check on the close cam on one on the cam across the creek.  There are fresh tracks since the rain but they aren't hitting the cams.  If I was rich I would have ten cams.