a favorite place to go, although i haven't been there in years........there's something so primeval about

Cumberland Island.........I once spied a deerhunter in this tree, under which i was writing poetry and

enjoying the afternoon......he was in brown and mossy gray camouflage.......startled, when i became aware of his stealthy presence, i drove him away........he was disgusted that i had "spoiled" his anticipated "kill".........i find hunting for sport an endeavor initiated out of such a primitive state of consciousness..............After he left, the birds began to sing again, and the deer returned to grazing, nearby......