It must be geese hunting season or something. My house is built on a hill, and I can see a big field down below from my living room windows. The field is surrounded by a stand of trees, and hunters hide out in there to shoot at things without being seen.
This morning, I keep hearing a series of gun shots like someone is firing off an automatic weapon—bang bang bang bang bang. Now that I have looked out one of the windows that looks down on the field, I have discovered that every time a flock of geese flies over the field, the shooters let loose. There are lots of geese out there, so there is lots of shooting.
In past years, I have watched this spectacle from a distance and have been disappointed when one of the geese breaks away from the formation and plummets to the ground. So far today, though, I have been a champion for the geese who seem to be targets of bad shots. Not one has been hit yet.
I know quite a few people who hunt, and they are not Neanderthals. They just like to go out in the woods and hope for a deer to cross their sights. I think what they actually like is the camaraderie, wandering around the great outdoors with their buddies and pretending to indulge their hunter-gatherer instincts even if they don't hunt or gather a thing. It's not like their village is waiting for them to return with a hefty carcass to feed the tribe. Their wives probably have a chicken roasting in the oven with some potatoes in the pot and a cherry pie on the kitchen counter. They got the stuff at the grocery store where they did all the actual hunting and gathering to keep the family fed, provisions for the tribe.
I have a slob of a neighbor who returned from his hunting with a deer a couple of years ago. He hung it in a tree in his backyard, which is what you're supposed to do, right? It's good for the meat to remove the blood, or something like that. I've heard you should hang the carcass for a day or two and then have the animal processed, but this guy left his trophy hanging in the tree for weeks. It rotted with smaller animals nipping at its legs at night when the dogs weren't there to shew them off. And then one day the guy skinned the dear, or what was left of it. He stripped it and then left the skinless thing in the tree for another day or two, the meat ruined and completely gone to waste. Apparently, he just wanted the skin, but it didn't occur to him to donate the meat when it was fresh.
I'm hoping this bonehead isn't one of the people hiding in the trees this morning. If he manages to bag a few geese, I'd hate to see what he'll do with them.