Women in the outdoors? You’ve heard the old saying that history repeats itself; our foremothers spent many, many hours in the outdoors. Granted, theirs was much more work-oriented than ours, but there’s no doubt they had to recognize the gentle beauty surrounding them.
Imagine stepping out your door on warm, summer mornings with the fragrance of the flowers in the air or the fresh clean smell of an early morning rain. The birds are singing their joyous cadences. The frogs in the nearby creek are croaking a much lower tune. In the woods, she could probably catch the gentle call of a hen turkey to her young, the chatter of the squirrels scrambling to gather breakfast.
My guess is they probably did their gardening and outside chores early in the morning. No doubt they felt tremendous pride as they nurtured their young plants, watching them grow toward the production of fresh fruits and vegetables. And I can picture the gleam in her eye as she brought in the first of the crop for her family’s meals. This was a real treat as they probably had a hard, cold winter and had long before used up their supply of canned goods. They surely had scoured the woods that spring in search of fresh greens and edible mushrooms and berries, which were truly a delight; but there was just something special about the produce that came from their hard work and labor.
Starting with the plowing of the ground, the scent of the fresh-turned earth had to be pleasurable. From there, they would mark out their rows for planting. I picture that in January and February they started many of their vegetable plants indoors to get an early start as the weather warmed. They probably spent cold February evenings planning the layout, dreaming of all they would harvest and put up for their family’s provisions. They may have even poured through a Henry Fields seed catalog, determining what to order, and then anxiously awaiting its arrival. I would think that for them, this was much like a child waiting for Santa.
Fear of not being able to provide enough mainstay for their family was probably the motivator for them to trek into the woods for a variety of wildlife. Many of their husbands would be gone for days, weeks, or months, on cattle drives or in search of a better life for their family. During times of war, women would be left to care for and provide for their family, animals, and ranch.
They didn’t have the advantage of camouflage clothing, the best of guns, game calls, and instructional videos. They had the instincts and intuition to go out and harvest deer, turkey, squirrel, rabbit, and any other game in their domain.
I can envision her excitement as she slips into the woods, not knowing what she might come home with, but knowing that whatever comes into shooting range is sure to end up as part of their next meal. They didn’t have an overabundance of ammunition, so they had to make each shot count.
While hunting, I’m sure the elegance of the wildflowers, dignity of the trees, and serenity of the surroundings became a part of their soul. The bright colors of the fall leaves, the sunlight filtering through the treetops, the soft moss-carpeted forest floor, and the aroma of the woods; none of it went unnoticed. They became a part of the scene.
Imagine how hard her heart must have been beating when the largest buck she ever saw came through trailing a doe not 20 yards from her makeshift blind. The majestic grandeur surely caused her to gasp a silent breath. As he neared her, she raised her gun or longbow, took a long deep breath, and held steady on the mighty creature. Then with all the confidence of a novice, she pulled the trigger or released the bow string.
I’m certain her first thought was of thankfulness for her family’s replenished food supply; gratefulness for the opportunity for a shot at this magnificent deer; and indebtedness for the provisions this would sustain.
On her way back to the ranch to hitch up the team to help her drag this huge buck home, the relief of knowing their subsistence was fulfilled for several weeks to come had to cause her to become a little giddy. She wasn’t certain, but her trained eye for measuring distance between plants in the garden caused her to suspect the horns were a bit taller and wider then her husband’s once-in-a-lifetime trophy hanging above their fireplace mantel. Maybe she would need to replace it with hers. A slight giggle surely slipped out in the quiet woods.
Her mind raced to Thanksgiving dinner, and she said a prayer of gratitude for the extravagant meal she could now prepare for her family. It didn’t stop at Thanksgiving, she raced on to Christmas. How excited Little John would be when he saw the deer hoof gun rack she would craft for him to hang his first rifle on. And Mary, she would cherish the soft warm feel of the deer hide pillow for her bed.
She undoubtedly chided herself after these thoughts, knowing her main concern at this point was to get the meat processed and put up for the winter. She would tuck away those thoughts for a later time; right now, she had work to do.
They had to take a lot of pride in all they did, and rightfully so. I’m in awe of what they accomplished with so little to work with. I try to fashion my life to them in some ways. With society and times the way they are now, we’ll never totally go back to their ways; but I am thankful for the many outdoor opportunities that today's women’s programs offer to us.
