Page 11 - Mar/Apr 2022 Outdoor Okahoma Magazine

2021 CREATIVE WRITING COMPETITION

“DRAWN TO THE WOODS”

EDITOR’S NOTE: Each year, the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation and Oklaho-
ma Station Chapter Safari Club International join to sponsor a creative writing competition for
Oklahoma middle and high school students. A boy and a girl from two age divisions are selected
winners. Students were required to write essays using the theme “Hunting: Sharing the Heritage”
or “Archery: What I Like About Archery in the Schools and Bowhunting.” Winners in the age
15-17 category receive a guided antelope hunt in the Texas Panhandle, and winners in the 11-14
age category receive a hunting trip with Rack Attack Outfitters of Fairview (or similar) and a
scholarship to the Outdoor Texas Camp. In this issue, Outdoor Oklahoma honors junior category
male winner Gage Graham, 14, an eighth-grader from Owasso Eighth-Grade Center.

By Gage Graham to our deer stand. I knew, without being told, that
When the weather begins to being quiet would help guide the deer close to us.

turn cold and the crisp leaves I sat with my dad for what felt like an eternity, a

start to fall from the trees, I know peaceful eternity that I wanted to do forever. That
it is time to start preparing for year, I didn’t shoot any deer, but that didn’t end my
hunting season. Every year, in the days hunting. I became a part of the men that sat

fall crisp air, my dad and I gather around the fire talking about the good ol’ days. I did

all of our hunting gear and we make sure our guns are eventually shoot my first deer, a doe, when I was 8
sighted in. As we are prepping and talking of our season, years old. We processed the meat ourselves … and
my grandpa is preparing his things as well. As we haul had the hide tanned. I finally felt as if I earned my

our campers, gear and four wheelers to my grandpa’s place around the campfire.

land and set up camp around the aged fire pit, my mind The seats around the campfire aren’t full of the men
is flooded with memories. Those memories are of the I called grandpa anymore. My great-grandfather’s
first time I ever went hunting. seat remains empty but his wisdom still rings loud in

The first time I went hunting, I was 5 years old. I my ears. I learned a lot from a quiet man. My grandpa

remember the excitement in the air as we hung around from my dad’s side brought his chair to the campfire
the campfire. As I poked the fire with a stick and roasted and taught me many things until he passed away.
marshmallows, my dad, grandpa, and great-grandpa My dad, grandpa, and I still hold the traditions that

chatted about the fields of clover they planted. All of the were started the first year I went hunting. I continue

laughter between them in that moment in the woods, I to make memories every year and learn new things. I
knew I would want to hunt every year. For the first time hope that I am still sitting at the campfire until I can
ever, I willingly went to bed early and woke early the no longer, passing on the memories, laughter, and

next morning. At dawn, all bundled up in camouflage, knowledge that I learned from the first time I poked

we walked over crisp leaves, quietly crunching our way that fire when I was 5 years old.

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