After more than a year’s pause, the wood riser of a lightweight recurve bow in my curled left hand felt good, as did the muscle tension associated with drawing an arrow.
After a dozen arrows of “warm-up,” just trying to rekindle muscle memory and just keeping fired arrows on a target butt, I bore down and focused. I managed to put all six arrows from my quiver into a deer’s kill-zone from 20 yards. Wow. After spending months wondering whether I ever would be able to return to this beloved skill, I was elated.
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