During the spring turkey season, it’s easy to spot blooming crabapple trees and mark them with a GPS unit. Photo by Michael Corrigan.

The rain finally slowed to a mere trickle, but the wind was still gusting a bit. That was just fine with me because the weather forecast called for calming conditions for the remainder of the day.

Before arriving, I had monitored the weather forecast and was sure my timing would be spot-on.

As I walked along the powerline right-of-way, I caught a fleeting glimpse of whitetails on the edge up ahead. Spooking deer was disappointing, but at the same time, I was filled with optimism.

There was a good reason for them being where they were before they got spooked -- and I knew why.

Approaching my stand location at 20 yards from the edge of the powerline easement, I could literally smell the sweet scent of the available food source. Wild southern crabapples littered the ground, and the local deer were hitting them hard. Fresh hoofprints and droppings scattered about confirmed my high expectations. This was going to be an action-packed hunt -- I was sure of it.

I settled into my Ol’Man climbing tree stand and could already tell the wind was starting to die down a bit. With each gentle gust of breeze, the sight and sounds of ripe crabapples falling from the branches filled me with more anticipation.

Each time a fruit hit the ground, it was like a dinner bell sounding. I was confident that deer would respond to the delicious odor and the noise.

An hour passed, and the woods became utterly still. The wind direction was perfect. I could hear the barks of a protesting squirrel less than 50 yards to my right. Soon after, I heard an occasional twig snap and slow footsteps coming from the same direction. A doe emerged from the thick cover, intent on getting her fair share of the groceries.

So was I. The hunting was either-sex during archery season, and the north Florida wildlife management area I was hunting had plenty of bucks and does.

I stood up, turning to get a better angle for a shot. Before I could ready my bow, four more does pulled up to the dinner table. Now with five deer, all less than 15 yards away, I worried that one might see my movement as I drew my bow.

A few minutes passed. I continued to scrutinize the wind direction. If it held steady, venison would be on the menu tonight. I quickly came to full draw at the exact moment that all heads were down.

One doe spooked just a bit, but I had already settled my top pin behind the largest doe’s shoulder. The jig was up after my razor-sharp broadhead arrow cut a clean path through both lungs of the leading doe.

She stumbled twice and fell over, less than five feet from the arrow. All the other does quickly exited the stage. I wasted no time packing up my gear and dragging my prize back to the truck. Over the next week, my freezer nearly got filled to capacity with three more deer taken from this stand location before the crabapple food source dried up.

DEER CANDY
In north Florida, bowhunting and wild crabapples go hand in hand.

When archery season opens, you can usually bet that deer are targeting the fruit. Find the fruit and you find deer. It’s almost that easy, but I’m still amazed how few bowhunters know that wild crabapple trees grow in this part of the Sunshine State.

Southern crabapples -- or Malus angustifolia in botanical terms -- are commonly found in the southeastern states such as Georgia and Alabama.