Harvest Sentinel

A heavy buck stands in the cut corn, watching the tree line while the last light of day fades behind him. The stalks are down, the combine long gone, and now it's his turn to work the field. Ears forward, body still, he's reading the wind before committing to the open ground. The woods behind him burn with late-season color—reds and oranges holding on against the grey November sky. This is the window every corn-country hunter waits for: standing beans cut, deer on their feet, and just enough light left to see what steps out.