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DispatchFatherhoodOctober 12, 20253 min read

Dispatch 18: Dreary Days

Dispatch 18: Dreary Days

When I was a kid, I loved a good rainy day.

If it wasn’t coming down too hard, my brother and I would head into the woods, exploring the new dynamic. It made everything feel more adventurous, like we were on some great excursion where threat was possible. The creeks were overflowing, the air was cool and heavy, and every sound carried deeper into the trees.

We’d cross logs slick with moss, build small dams, and imagine ourselves deep in some far-off wilderness. The world felt bigger in the rain, like anything could happen.

But as I got older, that same weather started to mean something different.

By high school, rainy days became a trigger for gloom. I’d stare out streaky windows and imagine I was in some sad movie, waiting for the sun to come back. Somewhere along the way, the rain stopped being an adventure and became a symbol of sadness.

The thing is, it’s the same rain.

The same rhythm on the roof.

The same gray light through the glass.

Only the perception changed.

And that’s the truth about life. Nothing holds meaning until we give it one.

Perception colors everything we touch. It shapes how we see people, how we face challenges, and how we interpret setbacks.

A bad day at work can be a curse or a lesson.

An argument with someone you love can be a fracture or a bridge.

A season of struggle can be punishment or preparation.

We don’t always get to choose our circumstances, but we always get to choose our lens.

When we shift our perception, we shift our experience of the world.

That isn’t optimism. It’s awareness.

And awareness is what turns a rainy day from something dreary into something alive.


FIELD

The rut changes everything.

Bucks that have been invisible all season start moving in daylight. Caution fades and instinct takes over.

It’s not random. Rising testosterone drives bucks to expand their range and check doe bedding areas throughout the day. They move with purpose but without patience.

Use that to your advantage.

Hunt the wind, not the date on the calendar. Set up downwind of doe bedding. Focus on terrain funnels, creek crossings, and pinch points. Stay out longer. Midday movement can be the best of the season.

Look for fresh scrapes, rubs, and new tracks that appear overnight. Each sign is a clue that timing is shifting in your favor.

The rut rewards observation over aggression. Slow down. Watch the wind. Be ready when instinct pulls him into range.


MINDSET

Most people move through life the same way many hunters move through the woods, assuming instead of observing.

Awareness changes everything.

In the woods, it separates luck from consistency. It means noticing when the wind shifts, when pressure changes, or when a deer’s movement signals more than chance. The best hunters do not force outcomes. They recognize patterns and move with them.

The same applies to life.

Awareness in our interactions keeps us from reacting out of ego or insecurity. It helps us listen better, speak less, and understand what is truly being said.

Assumption blinds us to reality.

Awareness grounds us in it.

Whether in the woods or in our relationships, success comes from paying attention to the small signals that most people overlook.


Awareness is the greatest agent for change.

— Eckhart Tolle


Where in your life have you been assuming instead of observing?

What might change if you slowed down long enough to see things as they are, not as you expect them to be?


Not a shooter unfortunately. Great Pyrenees, including my own, will be the death of me.

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Austin Nicholas

Father, outdoorsman, and guide to raising resilient kids through wilderness and adventure.

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