OK, after a fruitless search on the all-encompassing 'net to find a sample sound of an arrow whizzing by your head, I will simply relate the story.
I went to Ceasar Creek's Harveysburg road section EARLY to photograph the sunrise as the sun -- which would be rising behind you from this vantage point, as opposed to in your face from the normal location of "the beach" -- started to clear the tree line, and there was only one other vehicle along the road. So, I parked further down, by the boat launch, so I could get good, unobstructed photographs of the sun turning the beach and opposing shoreline brilliant orange. Apparently, that wasn't the only thing that should have been brilliant orange... About 35 minutes in, I started moving around from RIGHT ON the boat launch in order to get different perspectives -- you know, that thing photographers do to try to set their photographs apart from every other yutz with a cell-phone camera or point-and-shoot digital saturating the web with "pix." Apparently, this was a very BAD idea. My apparel consisted of black jeans, beige winter coat with green trim and a black hat. As I was standing in the open, this wasn't a problem. Once I stepped into the trees to get a better angle on the sun reflecting on the ice, I heard a fascinating noise.
It wasn't until feeling the breeze whoosh by in conjunction with the sound that I realized I had a bow hunter who was mistaking a 230-pound, 6'1" biped with a 500mm f/6 lens (for reference, fully extended with the hood, it is around 20" long...) for a 10-point buck or some such. Now, I checked the ice to see where the arrow landed, but it had enough steam on it to end up way out in the lake. How do I know? I watched the next 4 splash about 250+ yards out in the middle of the lake. Now, I had a problem, all my gear was still down at the boat launch, by the blind (it's easier to photograph birds such as the gracious Lesser Scaup that was hanging around when you're hidden in the blind and they don't know you're there...) and I was about 50 yards equidistant between the car and my gear, and I had -- in the time it took me to figure out wtf was going on -- 3 more arrows whiz by. So, I moved QUICKLY to the car. Where was my blaze orange knit hat? Sitting on the dresser at home. @#$%! All I had was Connor's Bengals hat which, thankfully, has a seriously orange under-bill. That was going to have to be good enough. Amazingly, once I started walking around with the hat held out to the side in order to get my tripod, camera bag and lens bag for the 500, there were no more whizzing arrows. Lordy.
In checking the TheNaturalSource.com listing for Ohio hunting seasons, the Scaup I was photographing was off limits until the next season, which would start in 302 days (October 20th...) and the only other things currently "in season" are Ruffed Grouse, Peter Cottontail and Foamy...I mean Squirrel. Nowhere on the list did I see "nature photographer." Strange. Also, nothing there is big enough for bow hunting, is it? Maybe the grouse and rabbit...neither of which were observed when I was at the boat launch. Also, neither of which is big enough to be confused with a human. Unless you need glasses, or a little less Old Dan Tucker...or both. So, either this person was a poacher or an idiot...or both.
Then again, I qualified for idiot by leaving my blaze orange hat at home, didn't I? Ooh, yeah.
If you're the hunter who was attempting to perforate my noggin' -- thank you for having the worst aim imaginable. I am REALLY glad you suck. I hope you bag that 1st deer at some point in your life, I'm just glad I wasn't it. Meanwhile, I know SEVERAL good optometrists in the greater Miami Valley area...you should look into them.
So, the moral of the story is this: never forget your blaze orange when birding. Corollary: if you do forget it, don't wander into the woods...you never know who might be waiting to inadvertently send you to the great birder's blind in the sky.
