February 22, 2024

This morning, I went into the woods to watch the sunrise. It was below freezing and the moisture made the twilight air feel even colder. The forest was lighting, and I heard the familiar song of a wren waking. A hawk circled high above, its cry echoing above the forest’s canopy. As I neared my destination, I heard an odd but familiar bird. I didn’t see it, but I knew it was a pileated woodpecker. Earlier this week, I ran into four of them in the pasture and recognized their hideous song.

When I arrived at Beaver Tooth Rock, I checked a trail camera that was strapped to a tree pointing toward the rock’s face. The camera captured six videos of a large coyote walking on the enormous boulder. In one video, the coyote sat down to face the creek bed, just like I did every day. Apparently, it was a good lookout point, and it made me happy to know I shared this special seat with something wild. I quipped that I might have to change the place’s name to Coyote Rock.

I sat on the boulder for a long time, watching the sunrise. The sky transformed from midnight to light blue, and then filled with sharp pinks and muted oranges. After half an hour, the color vanished and morning in the woods began. A downy woodpecker, perched in a tree high, pecked diligently. While the sound was soft, the small bird impressed me with the speed of its cadence, sounding like someone squeezing off bursts of automatic machine gun fire.

The sun rose above the tree line on the eastern horizon, and the tops of the trees in front of me reflected the sun’s light. Despite the peaceful morning, sitting still in the cold was not the best way to stay warm or feel comfortable. I felt my fingers harden as I lost control of them, unable to manipulate the small buttons and dials on my camera. It was time to head home. I bid the area farewell, noting my observations. Nature moves slowly with nothing much happening. However, when it comes time to eat or be eaten, nature exhibits decisive action.

I dressed too lightly and stayed out too long, which made me laugh out loud during the trek home. In the frigid temperatures, my hands throbbed in sharp pain with every pulse. My fingers felt like I had smashed them in a door. I picked up my pace to shorten the suffering.

While uncomfortable, I relished this morning’s winter weather. Spring and summer were around the corner. These seasons would bring gnats, mosquitoes, biting flies, and ticks. The temperature would get so hot and humid that the forest would fill thick with steam. Spring would arrive soon, so I absorbed myself in the cold before the season was gone.

When I arrived home, I brewed a hot cup of coffee. As I reached into the refrigerator to grab some half and half, I noticed my hands were so cold that the refrigerated air felt warm. My fingers thawed, and the sensation of tiny needle pricks took over as the blood began flowing through my hands. While putting my camera away, I saw my thick winter gloves fastened to my camera bag. Probably should have taken those with me. I felt cold for the next hour, unable to warm myself, until I took a hot shower.

By lunchtime, my wife had arrived from a month long rotation in Lumberton, North Carolina. We expected the rotation for months in advance and knew that living apart would be difficult. While each day alone felt long, it was now over, seemingly in the blink of an eye. We were happy to complete this rotation and knew we would be together for the next two.

We ran to the Piggly Wiggly for a few groceries. After, I took out old produce from the refrigerator and placed it inside the worm bins. By the time I finished work, my wife had prepared an amazing meal. The house smelled so good that my mouth watered and stomach rumbled during my last work hour. I’m sure the dogs felt the same way.

It was wonderful to be back with my partner. While living alone was not impossible, everything was better when we were together. When two people live in harmony, life is easier and more enjoyable. After dinner, my wife showered while I washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. After she was done, we looked out the front window and spotted six deer feeding in the pasture. I noticed one of the small deer walked a little funny, its back legs overly stiff. My wife pointed out that one doe was large, its fat belly likely carrying one or two fawns that would be born in the spring.

I took a shower, wrote, and then went to bed. We were tired from the emotional release that came from finishing a challenging month. Tomorrow was Friday, and I knew I would feel recovered and ready for the weekend. My wife had a major exam in Durham and had to perform well before she could relax. One thing I knew, the next few months would be full of fun and happiness. Sharing experiences with someone you love and trust gives life meaning and makes each person feel complete.