In the Gloaming

The hunter set off just before the gloaming adjusting the straps of his high powered rifle it was a long way to where the stag usually fed a majestic stag sprouting twelve point antlers Climbing high up the rugged mountain side he trekked fast covering the many miles at last he was where the stag usually fed casting around for signs of his tracks Finding them he started stalking his prey up hill and down dale he carefully followed until at last he could see him way up ahead taking care to keep down wind he got close Now about one hundred yards apart, he settled nestling into the thick bracken patiently waiting The stag climbed onto his favourite outlook and stood there poised as the gloaming lit the sky Truly a wondrous sight he was in full prime the hunter sighed as he took steady aim then with a click it was finally time to shoot the stag hearing the sound took to his heels The hunted checked his camera, yes he had him a perfect picture well satisfied he packed up this one picture had taken days of trailing him now he was forever captured in magnificent splendour