By Ben Smith:
If you’ve lived in Mississippi for any number of years you already know it’s a special place. And it’s not just the people that make the Magnolia State special; it’s the beauty of the landscape. Sure, we don’t have emerald water beaches and we don’t have mountains. But we make up for it in other ways. I love driving from the southern part of the state toward the Mississippi River. The change from piney woods to rolling hills with hardwood bottoms is stunning in the late fall season. Another great view is taking in a sunset from the marshes of the Gulf Coast. But even as good as all of that is, my favorite place in Mississippi remains the delta.
It’s been a while since I’ve made the drive up Highway 61. So, when I was offered the chance to get in a hunting trip in the delta I had my bag packed before I ever hung up the phone. Of course, the deer hunting is the best in the state, but that’s not even what excited me the most. I couldn’t wait to make the drive. I don’t know what it is, because to the average person it’s probably as boring of a ride that there is. Nothing but flat land with cotton and soybean fields on both sides of the highway for as far as you can see- and I love it.
Maybe I love the drive so much because it reminds me of my grandparent’s house when I was a kid. They lived in the Alabama version of the delta, and I’d spend a couple of weeks each summer at their house. Looking back on those summers spent surrounded by cotton I didn’t know how good I had it. Even after all of these years I can close my eyes and be in that place. I can still remember how the crop duster would buzz the house to let us know he was about to spray so my grandma could get her laundry off the line. In the afternoons, we’d sit under the shade of their giant pecan trees and relax. I can still smell their coffee and remember them giving me a little of my own, although it was mostly milk. I can see my great-grandparents, who lived next door, walking hand in hand to come sit and visit with us under those trees. All of them are gone now, but I hope those memories never leave me because they’re the most special ones that I have of my childhood.
The long drive seemed to pass by in a moment, and I arrived at my destination. A house tucked in a little grove of trees sandwiched by fields awaited me. After a warm greeting and conversation from my friend, it was time to hit the woods. The property rests inside of the Mississippi River levee system and is perfect for deer hunting. And that’s the thing about hunting in the delta…if you can find a block of timber around those fields there are pretty good odds that it’s going to be holding deer. I’d been in the stand all of about ten minutes before the first few deer began to show up. Since my last hunting trip at my place resulted in two straight days without seeing a deer I was pretty fired up already.
The more the sun dropped from the sky the more deer filled up the food plot. I watched a couple of young bucks still chasing does around even though the peak of the rut had already passed. It felt great to hear them grunting as they harassed the other deer in the plot. They’d chase a doe around and run all of the other deer from the plot, then five minutes later they’d all come back and the process would repeat. I could have sat there all day watching this unfold. But, just before the sun completely went down another buck entered the plot from the back. This buck commanded the attention of all the other deer. With long beams and antlers stretching out far wider than his ears, he was certainly built different. But the more I watched him the more I realized he was still not a fully mature buck and had room to grow. I hope he makes it another couple of years because he will be a true trophy for someone one day.
The next two days of my trip was more of the same. Plenty of deer, plenty of young bucks chasing around does, more beautiful scenery, and fellowship with a friend that can’t be replaced by anything this world has to offer. I spent the morning hunt sitting on a ridge watching tugboats push barges up the river knowing that I’d never have a morning view from a deer stand that could ever top this one. The barges were moving so slow they almost didn’t seem to be moving at all. And that’s how it was for me, like time was standing still. Of course, in reality it wasn’t, and sooner or later my stomach reminded me that time, in fact, was still moving.
And that’s the crappy part of the trip; time was still moving and it was moving faster than I wanted it to. Before I knew it the trip was over and I was back in Hattiesburg. I may not have killed anything on that trip, but what I brought home was far greater than deer meat. I believe I returned home a better person. Not only from the time in the woods, but from the company I was around. Finding a good stand to hunt is sometimes tough. Finding a good friend that makes you a better person in the process is like finding a diamond on the banks of the Mississippi River. I don’t know when my next trip to the delta will be, but my bag is already packed.
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