I’ve diagnosed myself with seasonal depression, or at least “seasonal-ish” depression.  In typical textbook cases, symptoms begin to occur in late fall or early winter; however, for me they tend to arrive about this time each year.  At some point in May, I’m always overcome with a feeling of melancholy that is palpable.

 

Seasonal depression or Seasonal Affective Disorder is a type of mood disorder that, according to Dr. Google, is “triggered by changes in the seasons” and “is characterized by depressive symptoms that appear at the same time each year.”

 

I certainly check all those boxes, especially the disordered moods and the timing of symptoms.  However, I believe that the “seasonal” aspect of SAD needs to be expanded as the traditional spring, summer, fall and winter categories fall short of the mark.  Several additions need to be made, including but not limited to turkey, deer and duck.

 

Turkey season ends in May and for me, that ending inevitably triggers a downward spiral into despondency.  Perhaps Postseason Depression, or PD, would be a better term.  If so, a diagnosis of PD should also include a season subtype, such as PD-T (turkey), PD-D (deer), PD-W (waterfowl), and so on.

 

I’ve found success in delaying the onset of PD-T symptoms with trips to out-of-state destinations like South Dakota, but even in those instances the dark clouds of dolefulness are still forming on the horizon by Memorial Day.

 

 

 

With traditional SAD, the altered moods are attributed to “changes in daylight hours, changes in brain chemicals like serotonin and melatonin and disruptions to the circadian rhythm.”

 

It follows that for PD-T the mood shifts could be attributed to such various causes as sleep deprivation, withdrawal symptoms from dramatically reduced caffeine intake, wholesale changes in diet and exercise (i.e. fewer gas station honeybuns and far fewer miles walked), and decreased GIT (gobbler-induced tachycardia).

 

I joke, but the struggle is real.  The cure is also simple—more time.  I simply need more time in the woods each spring.  In lieu of time, there is no cure, but there is comfort to be found.

 

In the words of my favorite writer, Rick Bass, “I believe time is the essence, the fuel of beauty.”  Looking back on this spring, I must agree, time fueled a beautiful turkey season.

 

Reliving the memories of the season is one of the most effective comforts when suffering with PD-T symptoms, especially when that “reliving” is done while sharing freshly fried or grilled wild turkey with family and friends.

 

Many of the beautiful memories of this season were made while hunting with our son Dan.  Dan and I were lucky enough to get an early start together the first weekend of March in South Florida, and we finished the season hunting together here at the farm.

 

The birds we encountered along the way, both those that we outsmarted and those that schooled us, left us with a hunger for next spring.  Sometimes at night, just before I drift off to sleep, I think of those birds, and in those moments of calm focus I hear their gobbles.  It’s as if I am standing in the woods at “graylight.”

 

Graylight itself recalls another treasured memory of the season—hunting with friends.  Graylight is the time before sunrise, a magic time to be in the turkey woods.  I first heard the term from mentor and friend Steve Brown years ago and have used it as my own since then.

 

Dan and I started the season with Steve and our friend Chris McElroy chasing Osceolas in South Florida.  It was our best trip yet to Florida, filled with hunts that I will never forget.

 

Back in Mississippi, it was to be a season of hunting “cutover” turkeys.  It seemed that no matter where I went in the Sip, big tracts of cutover timber came into play.

 

While Dan and I found success in several of our favorite spots, we also encountered a group of gobblers that loved spending their days in a wide-open cutover.  It’s hard to hide in the woods when there are no woods to hide in, but we gave it our best shot, finding success from time to time along the way.

 

Around the midseason mark, I spent two wonderful days hunting with friends in Lauderdale and Clarke Counties, with each day spent in very different topography.  Hunting with my friend Greg Welborn at his camp near the Alabama line was like hunting in the mountains.  Those hills and hollers require the skills of a mountain goat.

 

The evening prior to our hunt Greg roosted a gobbler on the edge of a huge (you guessed it) cutover.  The next morning, we slipped in well before first light and waited for the Mississippi Mountain Monarch to sound off.

 

When I say that we were close, I mean extremely close.  His first gobble almost blew the hats off our heads.  By lunchtime we had made several moves and, in the end, had been taught a few lessons, and while we left without a turkey, I’m not sure that I’ve ever spent a more gorgeous morning in the woods.

 

Later that day, I rendezvoused with friends Greg Monsour and Jamie Thomas in Clarke County for an afternoon hunt followed by a trip to Long’s Fish Camp for one of the best ribeye steaks I’ve had in quite some time.

 

The next morning, we were treated to the “silent spring” treatment from a cutover-loving bird that we finally pulled a gobble out of around mid-morning.  However, the Clarke County Sultan of Spring lived to gobble another day, and we left the woods sans turkey, but with memories galore.

 

Memories and time seem to be top of mind for me today as I write this in an attempt to struggle through my Postseason Depression (PD-T) symptoms.  I’ve come to realize that it only takes one to make more of the other and, as such, one is our greatest resource and one a lasting treasure.

 

Until next time, here’s to seeing you out there in our great outdoors.