The Beard is gone...

... and the Browns are terrible

-photo by Ava Hunter

It's a sad day for me when the beard goes. It means we are done with the Ohio hunt. I grow it every year only for the hunting pictures...no other reason. But, each year when I begin to grow it, I am reminded every time I look in the mirror that it is hunting season. That brings me great joy. To ease the pain of admitting the deer season is over for me, I shave it off in stages. This was the last stage this year. (Well, I had a handlebar mustache for about 4 hours. But, that left quickly.)

It's a happy day for me when the beard goes. It means Thanksgiving and Christmas are on the way and our family is going to be together. I love that. The beard is a simple reminder to me each morning that this is a season to be intentionally grateful.

So, it's not just another facial hair experiment. The fall beard actually means something to me. Is it goofy? Yes. Does it make it less awesome? No.

I hope to keep this up until I am too old to hunt. Even Lisa was sad to see it go this year...