The guns are old, maybe as sage as the brush underfoot. Every grain in their stocks tells a story, every layer of steel a memory. I hope to see as many as they have, to tell as many stories someday.

“Do you have a pistol? We might have to shoot our way out of this one”. The words initially struck us as comical, but the materialization of a .357 peacemaker revolver sobered us up.

We stopped at a distance to ensure that his shot had indeed anchored his bull and the antlers climbed far above the grasses from where it had fallen.

I can't let another year's worth of accidental shooting reports go by without telling you, sharing with you, what I owe my friend Brian Bradley...