After the novelty of being elevated 20 feet in the air had worn off, and the bite of the north wind of opening morning of deer season had come on, I found my mind wandering from topic to topic as I looked over the open log landing that will, someday – barring another snow-filled April and the resultant swampy May – become a lush green food plot ripe not only with the pink flowers of clover, but with deer activity as well.