This past fall I was asked to document a Women’s Crossbow Hunt, I arrived there thinking I was just going to be observing the hunt and documenting. After all, I wasn’t a hunter myself. I had grown up sitting quietly beside older brothers and family members in the woods, but the practice had never become my own. What I didn’t expect was to walk away with a deeper lesson in mindfulness than any yoga class had ever given me. Sure, these classes sometimes helped me slow down and breathe deeper. But it wasn’t until I sat beside a group of women hunters in the stillness of the forest that I realized how little I actually knew about paying attention.
Learning From the Women Around Me
I stumbled in wearing as many layers as I could find in my drawers. Being a scuba diver and warm weather fanatic, I tend to forget how to dress for the woods in the fall. I watched as the women paid close attention to the other woman who was teaching them how to use the crossbow.
I have always been in awe of the way women pay attention to each other with ease, pour their heart into their hobbies, and connect with each other and their passions on a deeper level. I could feel the excitement for the weekend radiating off each and every one of them.
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When it started to rain, the energy didn’t change. No one jumped to start packing up. We put a few more layers on and continued learning about the crossbows they would all be taking out to hunt with in the following days.
A Table Full of Stories and Food
It didn’t take long before every moment of that weekend felt like a coming home to myself. As soon as we stepped back into the main house, the women began unpacking the dishes they had brought. One by one, the table filled with different meats and homemade meals, many made from wild game they had hunted and prepared themselves.
I savored everything I could manage and felt more grounded sharing these meals with these amazing women than I had in a very long time. I tried bear meatballs, duck, and the best homemade mac and cheese I have ever had. Although I may not be a hunter, I have always respected people who hunt for their food and have felt that it is truly the most ethical way to eat meat. These women already had my utmost respect, and I could not wait to spend the rest of the weekend with them.
They swapped stories of the different types of hunts they have done. Some women even telling us about their experiences in Africa! I never even imagined I would know or talk to someone who has hunted there. I loved hearing about how hunting and the outdoors played such a crucial part in their upbringing and how they view the world. As I can relate, being in outdoor and conservation work, being pulled to it all of my life.
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The Hunt
Although I had already learned so much from these women before the hunt even started, I was about to learn much more the following day. Sleepy-eyed, I woke with them long before dawn and watched as they somehow had significantly more energy than me, full of excitement and hopefulness for the big hunt.
Despite my fatigue, I was excited too. I knew that time outside, even in the cold, always made me feel more awake and overall better in my body.
We walked gently through the woods, speaking quietly and with few words. It was the beginning of the silence I was about to experience for most of the day, and if you know me, you know I don’t stay silent very long (or still). The two girls I had the privilege of sitting with and documenting led me to our blind, trailing cloth soaked in doe urine behind them. I have to admit, it was the first time I had ever had to sit with that smell and get used to it. The determination of these women and the things they do to make a successful hunt possible was astounding and honestly very inspiring.
The three of us squeezed into the small blind with little more than space for our bodies. We got as comfortable as we possibly could, and then it was time to wait for the deer to come. About an hour later, I learned that the waiting was the most time consuming part of the entire hunt. As I waited for something to capture with my camera, I was reminded of how often I don’t have to be patient with my craft. Usually the shot is there for me, and if it’s not, I can manipulate it until it is.
These women didn’t just wait. They waited carefully and patiently. I noticed this as I tried so hard to be like them. Shuffling less than I normally would, keeping my phone in my bag, stuffing hand and foot warmers into every place I could manage on my body, and trying very hard not to tell them I had to use the bathroom. I wondered how they somehow didn’t yet. I could tell they were used to this. And that they loved it. And truthfully, I was starting to as well.
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Finding Patience in the Quiet
I am the type of person who loves to challenge myself, so I embraced the uncomfortable moments and tried to learn from them. I found things to photograph even without a deer coming our way: the beautiful crossbows, the powerful women holding them.
There was a break at lunch, and by then I was happy to be getting back to the house for a real meal and a chance to stretch my limbs. The women I had been sitting with stayed though, determined to wait it out for the entire day. When I thought about how they would likely sit that way for a total of around twelve hours, I was amazed. I learned more from them, and had more quiet time to reflect and meditate, than any wellness class I could have ever attended.
The women never did get a deer that weekend, but it didn’t matter. In the end we all walked away with far more than that. We learned from each other, shared our stories and meals, and sat silently together in the woods. It had been one of the most peaceful and refreshing weekends I had experienced in a long time.
And I could not wait until I got the chance to sit through another hunt again.
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