I know it has been a while since I posted anything but, without further ado, here’s a profile feature article I written for a cousin of mine. Enjoy!
---
At 13, most kids played Xbox or watched television for entertainment. But not Mark Song.When he wanted to have fun, he picked up his bow and arrow and roamed the forest with his father.
Leaving in the morning at 3 a.m., Mark, like his father, wasn’t big on breakfast, and took an apple to go, eating it from the top down.
“The apple cores are just a myth. Never eat them from the outside in; this wastes roughly 30 percent of the fruit. Eat the seeds too,” Mark remarked as he tossed the remaining piece of apple into his mouth.
After brushing and flossing his teeth not once, or twice, but three times to be sure, Mark donned his camouflaged clothing and headwear. Unshaven and messy, he packed items and tools for the hunting trip, once bending down for his quiver as his dark, unruly hair flew everywhere.Some might even say he was carelessly handsome.In less than 10 minutes, Mark signaled he was ready to go, and hastily stuffed his too-loose short-sleeve camo tee into his pocket pants. His father was just as quick.
Although the thirteen-year-old boy from Pennsylvania was way too young to have an official hunting license, he had already chalked up 6 perfect shots into three 7 and two 8 point whitetail deer and one black bear.
“Right in the heart!” Mark gleefully celebrated every time he made a direct hit.
But he wasn’t a complainer if he missed, or if he only gave the animal a minor wound. He shrugged, smiled his boyish smile, and sat back and waited for the next one.
Mark was simply taking after his father, who once single-handedly shot down three deer in one sitting. Thinking his son would enjoy hunting as much as he does, Mark’s father brought his son when he was 7 to a shooting range. With hours of practice and a side of beginner’s luck, Mark improved his skills and grew to love hunting. When Mark was finally ready, he entered the fields.
Although his father was supportive, Mark’s mother pleaded for him to be careful in the woods. But despite the motherly advice, Mark fell from his tree stand many times, half due to excitement and half due to trying not to fall asleep.
“You have to wake up pretty early to catch them. It’s only that one moment you hear it, the leaves crunching and their subtle movements. And you know you have to get it right. That it’s now or never. You have to hit them like they never knew what was coming! Boom, right in the heart!”
But there wasone rainy morning Mark would never forget—the day he shot his first black bear.
“I didn’t even realize it. I was so excited, and didn’t know what to do. I have never seen a black bear before, especially up close. I thought it was going to leap up at me, because bears can climb trees really well and this one was just 6 feet away… Of course I was scared! My father never shot one either. But luckily, my body instinctively reacted,” Mark heartily laughs. “I guess after all those hours of practicing… I just knew I had to do it. Miss or not. And I did. Oh, boy! You could hear the whoosh as I let go of my arrow; my heart was beating so fast. But I knew. Even before I let it fly. I had the position; the bear was mine.”
And Mark, indeed, was right. Within a few hours, the bear was dead, and it was his. Stunned at first, Mark called his father, who was waiting at another tree stand, and told him the news.
“Right in the heart!” Mark cheeredas he and his father lugged the bear out of the forest and onto the truck.
“Right in the heart!” He grinned, as his father congratulated him, patting him on the head, and later when they were eating lunch, joking about beginner’s luck.
“Right in the heart!” Heannounced, as he arrived home and as his mother applauded him,taking a picture.
“Right in the heart!” He murmured again, as he fell onto his unmade bed and drifted off to sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment