Antler Shed

Eight years ago today, I announced my departure from the corporate world and never looked back.

—Okay, there were times when I glanced back, tempted to fall back into the warm comfortable embrace of predictability and stability, even knowing that that world was prone to sucking the soul straight out of my body—

I didn't go back, and we are still fine. More than fine, our marriage is so much stronger because I left. My health is also much improved (minus normal aging BS and dumb luck). Since my departure, My wife and I have shifted to the real estate world, and we are still wrapped up in that. Being a people-to-people business—and, importantly, a more meaningful business—real estate is more fulfilling in most ways, even with its occasional craziness. (We have stories. Many stories.)

I also get to spend time on the farm at a pace that isn't governed by how much I can squeeze between meetings. Good things happen when you can take the time to appreciate and care for things appropriately. Today, I received just such a reminder of how special this farm is and how special this short space of time is that we have the honor of caring for it.

Pictured is a deer shed—and at only 3 inches, a shed from a young spike buck. What a lucky and relatively rare find for someone casually walking his property. Especially at this time of year.

A whitetail deer's antlers are seasonal. At some time after the rut in late fall / early winter, a deer's antlers will loosen, break off from his skull, and fall to the ground. The search for these is a common outdoor activity for some folks. Antler sheds are challenging to find, though. Most people, myself included, have never found a shed, no matter how much time spent outdoors. They blend in, are widely scattered, often not elaborate, and are dropped mostly during the colder months. Additionally, shed hunters are in a race with Mother Nature, who claims these antlers rather rapidly. Squirrels will gnaw them to nothing, and then there are foxes, coyotes, raccoons and opossums, and other critters and processes. Often, they are lost to time shortly after being buried by leaf litter.

By April 27th, few are left to be found. And so, by sheer dumb luck, I found this spike shed in our far west-southwest pasture along the fence line between our property and our neighbor's. Pretty darn cool and a reminder of the world outside of our daily routines and the walls of our homes—and a perfect gift to coincide with the eighth anniversary of a shift toward a better life.