The wind was blowing so hard I had to pick my hat up off the ground, twice. The warm, early-season sun beat down on me as I picked my way along a tree line to a big oak I’d eyeballed a week or so ...

A mud-caked buck appears out of nowhere, his legs stained from the bog. The deer scans its surroundings. He’s an old deer that knows just how perilous life can be outside the security of his swamp.