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Christmas Eve
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Christmas Eve He only hitched up the two lead dogs. Bringing back a tree was light work, always done on the day before Christmas. The snow was deep, crusted; they rode it well moving deeper into the forest. He knew the tree in his heart, had seen it early October. As the dogs halted, he pivoted, his eyes catching the buck as he strode majestically across a raised butte. Pulling his bow from the pack behind him, he loaded it in a movement so elegantly scripted that it blended with the wind sweeping the snow across the sled. The buck nuzzled the ground, seeking tender roots as the arrow took him to his knees then down. The dogs moved quickly, knowing that the light was leaving. The kill was a good one. He field cleaned and skinned the animal, leaving more than usual behind for those critters that needed it. A good 300 pounds or more he thought to himself, plus the hide. As he turned the sled to home, he felt the dogs resist. Why? The sun was fading.  Oh. But the tree was another 15 minutes away. His babies flew into his eyes like ice crystals stinging, and so he allowed the dogs to pull deeper. There, there it is. Cutting the tree in near dark, he thought of his woman standing at the window, searching for signs of the dogs as they crested the hill. Smiling, he loaded the tree, the smell engulfing him. She heard his voice, long before she could see anything. The sound of off key joyful singing. Opening the door, wrapping her arms around herself, grinning widely, she watched for the sled. The pushed past her, jumping about, ready to drag in the tree. He stepped off the sled back, setting the dogs loose to tumble, throwing them some precious meat for their work. He pulled the heavy sack behind him to the porch, dropping it. She raised her eyes. He felt pride fill him. The tree preceded them inside. He shut the door quietly, watching the wrangle it into the corner. He felt her warmth as she fit herself under his arm, a cup of coffee held up to him. Merry Christmas blogville. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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I wonder if I would survive this life. would you? You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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Merry Christmas wickedeasy!
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Such beautiful imagery, wicked. Merry Christmas. Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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At one time, yes but I'm not so sure I would care for it now. It makes a difference when you have someone that needs you to provide for them. Merry Christmas. Vive La Difference
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I wonder if I would survive this life. would you? kk The observant make the best lovers, I may not do right, but I do write, I have bliss, joy, and happiness in my life, Kitkat Come check out my blog KItkat1415 check out this post by me Adventures In Body Grooming #39 April Topic Link: What Lies Beneath If April Showers Oh Bloody Hell What Kind Of Weather Turns Me On Bloggers Symposium 40
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Wonderful story! Merry Christmas WE!! Rachel Mae
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I don't think I could lead that life. I like my meat killed for me!  Wishing you a very merry Xmas. 
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Great Story...Merry Christmas WE  Visit my Blog Older but no Wiser and find out more
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None of us make it out alive — and that's only one reason we're all in it together. This was a lovely gift. Thank you, and Merry Christmas!
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Merry Christmas to you sexy lady! hugssssssss V A very beautiful shot Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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I could perhaps survive that kind of life, but I doubt I would enjoy it, in the long run. Blessings to you this holiday, my friend.   
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Beautiful story! And a Merry Christmas to you, too! 
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