Thinking about lunch
Grandson Dane harvested his first whitetail deer ever, a nine point buck, while hunting from a stand in my woods last evening. He did it with his modern compound bow. Hunters field dress their deer and leave the offal in the woods much to the delight of these birds.
They come from miles around on such occasions and will leave their wooded dinner plates completely free of any evidence of the harvest.
Years ago I stumbled on a deer carcase in the woods where we then lived. It evidently was wounded and escaped being located by the hunter, or, it could have been the victim of being hit by a car, or, died of natural causes even.
Just days later there was absolutely no evidence of the deer's remains. No hide, no bones, nothing!
It's not something city-folks often ponder but the carrion eaters provide a very necessary service indeed.
Dane's deer was immediately on the way to a processor where it was butchered and packaged for many future meals.