I spotted the doe first. She skirted the lower field edge, partially blocked by the yellowing hickory branches concealing my ...

A mud-caked buck appears out of nowhere, his legs stained from the bog. The deer scans its surroundings. He’s an old deer that knows just how perilous life can be outside the security of his swamp.

Beaten, bruised, and a bit smarter than it was on opening day, the old buck slowly moves from his bed. The sun just set, but he’s not anywhere close to a big field yet. Keeping it in low gear, the ...