Nature’s Healing

This is not your usual fishing and hunting article, or an article about habitat management that you are used to in GON or written by me. I contemplated for a long time where I wanted to go with this article because there are so many things I could include about how nature can bring healing to people. I could name so many people and organizations that also do so much for groups and individuals to bring healing to them. One thing I decided not to do was to bring in all the scientific research on the topic. I finally decided the direction I wanted to go with the article late one night, and I worked on the article well into the night. 

For most of you who do not know me personally, the year 2023 started with a great start. Our daughter Anna was able to get her second buck, a 2 1/2-year-old 8-pointer. Our son was doing well in his first year of wrestling along with playing middle-school soccer, and our daughter was enjoying trying out for college soccer teams and talking with coaches about the prospect of playing for them. We were seeing turkeys again on our land in numbers like in the ’90s, along with six to seven mature bucks. I was looking forward to more habitat work on our land and doing much-needed work on the roof of our trailer we stay in. 

Then on a cold Sunday in mid-March, our world was shaken tremendously. Our daughter, after saving a shot on goal, was seriously injured by the player who took the shot running into her. Our daughter was taken by ambulance and spent two weeks in ICU with a lacerated kidney and leaking ureter. We learned from one of the doctors who did some of the first CT scans on our daughter that we could have lost her that day. She missed the remainder of her junior season and spent her summer with two drains coming out of her back. One drained her kidney to let her ureter heal, and the other drain was in case fluid built back in her abdomen. I do not think anyone can truly know the pain that she endured for five months.

Then during her second week of school for her senior year, Anna went in for an ultrasound with her new doctor who specialized in repairing ureters at CHOA. We had talked with him in June and hoped to get in sooner, but as the saying goes, tell God your plans and He will laugh. When we went in, we thought it would be another ultrasound. When her doctor came out telling us he removed the drains and the stent, and that the ureter had healed, you cannot imagine the relief we felt. 

We finally could breathe, but that would be short lived… 

My wife went in for genetic testing for breast cancer. We got good news that she did not have any genetic markers for cancer. Her doctor still wanted her to do an MRI since she was at elevated risk, and with the bills from our daughter’s injury, it would be covered by insurance. My wife debated not going, but I told her she might as well.

Thankfully, she went. They discovered a tumor that ended up being two tumors. They were so small that they were not detectable with a mammogram six months previously. They only appeared as “an area of suspicion.” Luckily her surgeon got them removed when she did because they had not spread to her lymph nodes, although they were nearing that point based on the testing on the tumors. As I type this, she has completed her radiation treatments, and we have been fortunate to be able to do oral medications for her cancer. 

I share this with you to better understand how nature has helped us to heal and make it through these incredibly tough times.

When we learned of our daughter’s injury, the first people we contacted were family and close friends to make sure our son was taken care of along with our pets. Several of them are friends who I have made through hunting and fishing that are now part of our family. Then we reached out to coworkers and other friends asking for prayers. 

There is no way that I can name everyone who prayed for us because I do not even know all who did, and we are eternally grateful for every one of them. What I want to do is focus on those that I would not have known without my time hunting, fishing and in the outdoor industry, a lot of whom I have never met in person.

Andrew Curtis, who writes for GON, is one who has been there with us through all that we have been through. If I did not message him, he was reaching out to me to not only check on our daughter and my wife, but also how I was doing. He understood how hard this was on me—not being able to help your daughter and wife heal, other than having faith in God that He would help them and myself through this. Without our common love for nature and getting youth into the outdoors, we would never have gotten to know one another. 

Capt. Bryan DeHart lives all the way near the Outer Banks of North Carolina. He was someone I got to know through Instagram with my connections to a large outdoor company that we both have ties to. I learned from our early interactions with each other on social media how strong his faith is. I reached out to him to keep our daughter in his prayers. 

The same is true of another friend I have made through Instagram, Lance Kruger. I can only hope to be half the photographer that Lance is when it comes to whitetails and turkeys. Lance travels all over the United States taking images in places I could only dream of photographing at. Both Lance and Bryan would reach out checking on things if I went long without updating them. 

I also want to thank Daryl Kirby and Brad Gill for checking in on me from time to time and granting me the grace to have flexibility with my article submissions for GON. 

Others who I have gotten to know through my writings have also reached out to let us know they have had us in their prayers. One such person is Wade Blevins. Our one commonality was our love for fly fishing, especially our interest in the native species that call the waters of the Southeast home. He ties a pattern of foam fly that his dad, Sam Blevins, tied for years. One day he made a post asking if anyone would like to support his cause to share the flies with others, like his dad did. It was something worth supporting, and I reached out. To my surprise, about a week later I had a package in the mail from Wade. In it were some of the flies named “Sam’s One Bug” in honor of his dad, who described it in an article about tying the patterns as, “The one bug is the single most productive and longest lasting fly I have ever used,” along with a letter talking about the greatest gift we have ever been given. His dad would give the flies he tied to people to spread the love of fly fishing or strike up a conversation with a stranger. Wade has continued in his dad’s footsteps, sharing the flies with friends, people new to fly fishing, and strangers that he has never met, like myself. Since that time, we have talked several times about the greatest gift he talked about in the letter he included with the flies. I know it helped me and my family get through all that we have been through. Several nights and mornings I laid in bed with tears in my eyes praying for the healing mentally and physically of my wife and daughter. Wade has also been so kind to include us in the prayer group that he has breakfast with during the week.

The “Sam’s One Bug” is a fly pattern the author’s friend Wade Blevins ties based on a pattern his dad created to help people heal and spread God’s word.

These are just a few of the people who have prayed for our family, and as I said, there are some I will never know who did. People who I have spent time with in the woods or on the water, people who I have gotten to know through social media sharing my images and stories of my family’s time in nature, others who have read my articles, or some who simply heard about what my family has been through. 

Time in nature has also brought healing. During archery season this last deer season, my son was able to get his first deer. It was a 2 1/2-year-old 7-pointer. I was asked to write about the hunt for GON to post online. While I sat in one blind with him, my daughter sat with John Seginak, one of those good friends I mentioned at the first of the article who I met through hunting that is now part of our family. She could have taken several does and bucks that presented her with the opportunity to get her first deer with a crossbow. She passed on them so that her brother would get the chance to get his first deer. Like clockwork, the 7-pointer came out into the food plot to feed on seed from a company several of my friends that kept a check on how we were doing work with. My son made a perfect shot, and the buck did not run more than 60 yards. Once we made it to the deer for the first time, things seemed right in the world again. The smiles between all of us showed the joy and relief that we all felt.

The author’s son, John, got his first buck, and he was able to harvest the deer while his sister Anna (left) was in a nearby blind with longtime GON contributor John Seginak. “It was one of the first times the world felt right again,” said the author Brandon Adams (pictured on the right).

It was after this that we learned my wife had breast cancer. It was like starting over again. At this time, I had finally returned to our land a couple of times, and it was time to plant our food plots. Our son went down with my dad and I to our land to help plant and hunt. We saw a couple of does, but he could not get a shot at them with his crossbow. It was nice to get away and be back working on the land again. 

My daughter and I were also able to slip away one day after school to spend time together in the woods. We just sat and watched two does along with a young buck and a nice 3 1/2-year-old 8-pointer feed in the oaks. 

Each day that I was able to spend in the stand, I now took in every second even more than I had before. The smell of the woods. The call of the birds. The breeze against my face… all had heightened meaning to me now. 

My dad was able to get a buck opening weekend. What made this deer even more special was that his dad got the first deer ever taken on our land in the same location after we purchased it. I helped drag my grandpa’s buck out for him back in 1989. My son was able to do the same for his Pape. Trust me, I did not miss the significance of the moment, and I took it all in enjoying every second of it. 

The following weekend as I sat in one of my stands, I saw a nice mature 8-pointer slip behind me following a doe. The buck was in a thicket, and I was not able to get a shot. In the past, I might have been mad at myself for not getting a shot on such a mature deer, but I was at peace with what had happened. Not long after, I saw a doe coming down the ridge toward me. I then noticed she was followed by what I thought was a young buck. Little did I know I was only able to see part of his rack.

The doe then crossed into a path that the logging crew made seven years ago when our timber was thinned. The buck was soon to follow. Once he finally stepped in the opening, I knew immediately which buck it was. I had trail-camera pictures of him from 2020. In 2020, he was a mature buck, at least 5.5 years old. I saw him from the same stand slip out of the thick cover to feed under a white oak, but I was not able to get a clear view of him to know if he was a 6-pointer that would not be legal on our land. The next year I finally got four clear images of him feeding under fruit trees we had planted. He was a main frame six with two kickers on each side, making him a legal buck. I never saw the buck in the woods that season, but now he was stepping clear for a clean shot. 

I found the buck lying beside a small pine tree. Upon walking up to the buck, I let out of deep breath with a tear running down my face. He is the heaviest buck ever taken on our land at 210 pounds, and based on tooth wear, he was 9.5+ years old. I am currently waiting for the result from sending his teeth in for cementum testing to know for certain his age. The look on my dad’s face was priceless when he saw the deer. 

The first deer the author’s dog Jager was able to track after Anna’s injury was also the Adams’ first chance to be in the woods as a family.

Without the friends that I have made from hunting, fishing and being in the outdoors, without the ability to walk out of the house from time to time and spend time in nature, without the experiences I have shared, I am not sure where I would be at this time in my life. 

I share this because I know others are dealing with similar struggles. Some are in the fight of their lives. There are many groups and organizations out there that offer help, too many to list. There are so many people that you will meet in the outdoors who will take the time to listen and pray for and with you. The quiet stillness of nature itself can bring peace and healing to people. There is plenty of research to prove these points. 

What I hope to accomplish with this article is to share how nature has helped to bring healing to myself and my family.

Spend as much time as you can outdoors, especially with family and friends. We are not promised another sunrise, so we should be grateful for each one we get and treasure them all. I am thankful to live in a country and state that allows me to spend time in nature hunting and fishing. 

I am thankful beyond words to all the people who have taken the time to pray for my family and reach out to make sure we are OK. Take time to reach out to people you meet on the water, in the woods, at a hunting store, or outdoor shows like GON Outdoor Blast. You never know when a smile, a simple hello, or a conversation might make all the difference in the world. It might even save a person’s life. When you get a chance, introduce someone new to the outdoors. The joy you get from it will be received tenfold and hopefully passed on to others by the lives you touch.