He was the most impressive buck we had on the farm that year, maybe any year, and I knew just where he lived. Or, at least, I thought I did. There’s a marshy creek that runs down the west side of the property, and that creekbottom transitions to a 100-yard-wide stretch of hardwoods that border a hayfield. The buck lived in the creekbottom and patrolled the hardwoods for does as they made their way up into the field.