The Missed Shot

► by Dr. Lee Foote

Have you ever seen the water bulge as a shockingly large fish rolls your fly out of sight then gives a mighty tug that sickeningly pops your line? Maybe you've sent an arrow thunking harmlessly into the only tree between you and a motionless white-tailed deer? Possibly you had the photo of a lifetime framed in your viewfinder as a black bear scooped her cub out of a stream only to have the camera display “Dead Battery”?

Disappointment is good

We’ve all had these disappointments. Yet, in that moment, you ARE alone with your thoughts and perhaps some choice words. There is no one else to blame so we have to own them. Believe it or not, these are good things. The life lessons embedded in our psyches from interacting with nature are possibly more valuable than any fish, deer, or photo. These are the moments when the fleeting uncertainty of life is reinforced and by facing our own imperfections, we come to appreciate our productive hunts even more fully. How we deal with our missed shots speaks volumes about our character.

Do we beat ourselves up or do we laugh at our mistakes? Did we learn anything that will make us a better outdoorsperson or even a better human being?

It’s asking a lot of hunting/fishing/photography to burnish our character, but it happens. We become more committed to the next success, like repeated failed pulls on a slot machine or scratches of a lotto ticket, our determination and commitment to the richness of conservation grows. We are all in this together with the trout, deer, and bear. Both us and our quarry depend on the very habitat in which they live and we recreate, and therefore we have a vested interest in conservation.

The next shot will be better

We’ve all heard that the early bird gets the worm, but it’s also true that sometimes the second mouse gets the cheese. That missed strike, shot, or shutter release almost certainly sets up the next successful cast, shot, or click— one that will be much more appreciated. Ironically, it's possible to suffer from too much success and that leads to unrealistic expectations, entitlement, and boredom. Remember, a trout fisherman’s hell is a three-pound trout on every cast. No uncertainty, no skill matching, no doubt—such fishing would become

yawn-worthy in short order. It seems we need the risk of failure to underpin our successes. Uncertainty and imagination are the teammates of hope.

Our missed opportunities become moments burned into our minds of what NOT to do in the future. What do we actually learn from the perfect shot or cast? We may never know if it was luck or skill. What would we change about ourselves or our future behaviour? Might we gloat just a little? Brag about our skill and woodcraft as we showed off our fish, photo, or antlers to make our buddies a little jealous? Of course we would! Think about that gloating, bragging, showing off, and jealousy—are those really the virtues and attributes of the better self we want to become? Someone who wins all the time eventually loses all their friends.

Celebrate those in-between moments

Legendary bluesman B.B. King observed that much of blues music is not about the notes themselves, rather, the silence between the notes. This could be why silence-filled outdoor time between heart-thundering wildlife music makes both sweeter.

Wild value is the surprise gift that nature delivers to those who wait and endure the space between notes. We celebrate our interactions through story, reflection, wonderment, and admiration for our quarry, even when we bring nothing home. Our quarry often has an excellent chance of “winning” these contests with escape, so our missed experiences become our consolation prize. Value it!