Roe deer hunting - "The damsel comes from the countryside in the sunset ... and carries a bouquet of roses and violets in her hand". Memories of youth. I don't know why this poem by Leopardi has been going through my head since I woke up. Maybe because it's Saturday, the best day of the week. And, finally, the first Saturday that we manage to go out at roes!
It's February. There selection hunting has been open for more than a month now, but the last boar hunts in January took priority. Many teams have held the most beautiful hunts for the end of the season, in the hope of closing "with a bang", and the invitations have followed one another in a whirlwind of unmissable opportunities! But the call of the elf makes itself felt, and in my heart I am very happy that the clamor and the "sociability" of hunting in hunt have subsided, leaving room for the calm, strategic, contemplative selection hunt for roe deer!
Our first release is in Toscana, and the exploration of the hunting areas leaves us, as always, breathless with their beauty. The fields dotted with scrub are almost phosphorescent green, a luxuriant veil covers the earth like the impalpable hair of a newborn's skin. It is still winter, the trees are bare and the small buds on the branches tremble at the thought of the violent rains that spring is often lavished on, but the quivering impulse of life that is reborn is tangible in the tender and delicate grass that we tread on in the dark. We arrive at the stakeout too early. We still do not master our biological clock and the time of dawn, and in order not to be mistaken we left well in advance. The new moon does not help us in finding the path that leads to the posting, we proceed slowly, enjoying a time that the "man" of the city is not allowed to live.
To calmly nibble Vincenzo puts his backpack on the ground. We have not yet reached the posting, just a few meters away. "Stop don't move!"I guess from his lip. "He's watching us!". Without moving a muscle, I just move my gaze, which rests on the velvet of a beautiful stage. A male saw us before we saw him, and he approaches us. While he looks away from us we slowly crouch down. He approaches again, his snout stretched out as if to taste the air that comes from our bodies, but the wind blows in our face and no smell arrives. We feel hunted. It makes me laugh when I think of the cartoons that make fun of hunters by portraying them under fire from their prey. That's just how we feel. From Vincenzo's lip I sense a "It's not possible, it's coming on us!".
"Ah, if it were August!I think, turned to the astute and curious observer, but I know that in due time, when the calendar foresees the killing of adult males, our friend will have already informed himself, and will be careful not to propose such a number!
Tuc. Tuc. The hooves hit the ground, a few meters from us. I don't know whether to interpret it as a gesture of challenge or an invitation to play. At some point he decides we're not that interesting and leaves, granting our prayer to do so without barking!
Enjoyed and encouraged by the charge of this first meeting, Vincenzo and I settle down. Tripods close at hand, binoculars on the neck, rifle on the backpack, heart in the throat.
The day looks promising and this area is notoriously generous and interesting. We wonder where the female is with the two young we saw every evening in August when the male was on the plane….
"Here it is!”I exclaim in a low voice, indicating to Vincenzo the point, at about 170 meters, where a female is grazing. "She has a slightly curved neck, a hunched attitude, she has no babies… in my opinion she is an old female”, I throw it there, trying to impress Vincenzo with an expert huntress comment. Vincenzo observes it with high magnification optics, he does not agree with my thesis, but it might be worth it. The female has no offspring, and our goal today is a zero class.
With the sun already high we decide to leave the ambush. We will try another area in the evening. The days are getting longer, but the evening stakeout must be prepared in the early afternoon. The oblique rays of the sun enhance the contours of trees and bushes, and make the earth on which we sat, surrounded by the equipment, warm.
"She sits with the neighbors on the ladder to spin the old lady ... and novellando comes of her good time ...”In the hours of waiting and observing fields, woods and ravines, my memory begins to ruminate on school memories that I thought were now lost. It makes me think how lucky we are to be here, in the hills, sitting on a very fresh lawn, with the sun warming us, in silence, in nature; how such a Saturday is priceless ... and how many today holed up in shopping malls, among neon lights, noise and crowds, buying or wishing to buy things that will never make them happy as much as we are here, now ....
Time passes and hopes are fading like light. "A female with two babies!”Exclaims Vincenzo without taking his eyes off the binoculars. "They move with a firm step and do not seem to have any intention of stopping. However be prepared. If they don't get into the woods, you have time to shoot!". I take off my jacket and place it on the backpack that is on the ground to better secure the rifle. The little family is swallowed by a thick bush in the middle of the field. I wait for them with the barrel pointed on the other side. But nothing to do. Suddenly three silhouettes appear on the opposite side, drawing the attention of the eye that is not on the optics. "Wow! Three more!”Vincenzo's voice trembles with emotion. The light is now almost nothing but not for the bright lenses of the binoculars. It is another female accompanied by two young. The binotelemeter marks 160 m. I bring the magnification to eight. I aim at the baby that follows the female a few meters away. I rig the rifle. A regular breath, not too deep, without holding your breath… Bam!
At the moment of the shot, all three roe deer leap towards the top of the hill. "Did you shoot the one behind the female?”Vincenzo asks me for confirmation with the worried tone of someone who will have to comfort me for the mighty frying pan he has just witnessed. The little one falls to the ground after two jumps out of control as a reaction to the shot. "Good Hunting! " - Vincenzo breathes a sigh of relief, happy that everything went the right way. The night comes quickly when we come to pay the honors to the first roe of the year. As the city lights come on with worldly life here, in the woods, tired but happy, we are gratefully celebrating our special Saturday night.
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