Deer Hunting Reinforced My Respect for How Food Gets to the Plate

This winter I killed my first white-tailed deer. It had been a long weekend without seeing much of anything as I sat up in a tree, enduring a steady pelting of snow and rain. Wet, cold, and somewhat defeated, I exited my stand and stood with a buddy, hoping to see something in the last few minutes of the day. As we waited, I noticed a deer on the top of a hill, weaving in...