Youth Writing Contest

I felt someone shaking me. I woke up. It was my dad. “Are you ready?” he asked. “Ready for what?” “Hunting.” That got me moving. I jumped up and looked at the clock. It was

Nature surrounds us, Me, Dad, and Nug, Dad and I walking, Nugget chasing a bug. Guns by our sides, Wearing orange vests, All I can feel is my Heart in my chest. Farther we walk,

As my gluteus maximum rested lazily on a bench in a buddy stand that my dad put up before I was able to hunt, I came a conclusion. My conclusion: HUNTING TIME is just like

I was scared, and there was no one to help me. “Lizz, can you untie that knot on the dock?” asked my dad. “Yeah, sure.” The knot let go and we were off. Finally, we

The mercury dropped so fast, it bent the nail the thermometer was hanging on. It was cold! “Let’s go, we’re burning daylight!” my Dad hollered. It was a brutal cold evening in December 2006. It

“Pshhhh, pshhhh.” The water washed along the sand and wiped away the footprints we’d left behind. The sun sparkled and danced on the gently pulsing water, making it look like the lake was shining, as

I was really excited about this hunting trip because a cousin was taking my dad and I on our first dove hunt. I had done some reading on this kind of hunting the previous week.

A rustle of leaves quickly shifted my attention to the creek bed north of my stand. I struggled in vain to see beyond the thick brush. Was it just another squirrel, or was it the

I burst into tears of joy, as I saw my first buck taken with a bow, lying dead on the ground 10 yards away. I did it! Through a long, hard summer of practicing shooting