January 14, 2024
I woke up at 4:30 AM, still feeling sick with a cold. It was too early to tell, but I thought I felt a little better; definitely not worse. My wife and I had our morning coffee time, sitting on the couch drinking hot lattes. While coffee is toxic to dogs, they love the foam. Axel, our youngest, learned he could get some of this treasured treat by “bringing money” to purchase some. This entails him bringing us a dog toy to pay for his frothed milk. He takes his morning purchases seriously, often gathering his money well before we pull the espresso shots.
After coffee time, I read Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essay, Self-Reliance. I’ve been contemplating this work and will probably write a piece on it soon. After reading several pages and jotting down some notes, I got dressed for a walk at the lake. Being sick had kept us all in the house, and my wife and I wanted some fresh air, agreeing to take two dogs with us so we could take a slower walk around the lake. I’m not sure why we reasoned the dogs would help us keep a gentle pace. Our dogs walk fast and usually end up making us working harder.
It was good to be back on the Lake Wilson trails. Our last walk there, in the dark, had been adventurous, and this morning, the puddles had all cleared. Koda and Axel had a great time, and the sunrise was beautiful. Today, the light cast muted tones of blue, magenta, and violet. The color of the sky reminded me of a photograph I took at this lake last year. Today, the lighting and hues matched that day perfectly. We walked four miles, feeling chatty and happy to be out of the house.
We arrived home feeling hungry. My wife put some biscuits in the oven while I prepped my normal morning meal, which comprised freshly cut cucumber doused in lime juice, sprinkled with salt and pepper, with a side of hummus dusted with smoked paprika.
I wrote for a few hours after breakfast and then napped briefly. After I woke up, I had another cup of coffee, and then grabbed my bow, rangefinder, and portable bluetooth speaker. I like to practice shooting my bow while playing music outside. The weather had turned sunny and warm, and I wanted to soak it up. I shot several rounds at twenty, thirty, and forty yards. Despite the crosswind, the arrows at those distances were unaffected. Because I was sick, I tired quickly, but felt satisfied after the practice session. I stored my bow and ventured into the woods, avoiding a return to the house.
The woods felt balmy. It was easier to breathe there, and I enjoyed walking alone quietly, stopping to explore anything new. When you’re in the woods every day, you notice anything that has changed. You see signs of life all around. And although you may only catch glimpses of birds, squirrels, and maybe some deer, I estimate there are always forty or fifty mammals in the forest that hide out of sight. These include beavers, opossums, raccoons, bobcats, rabbits, foxes, coyotes, and deer. In the forest, you are never alone, no matter how empty you think the woods are.
While walking down the trails, my eyes caught some movement between the trees. I froze in my tracks, squatting low and watching to see what it was. There were four or five deer moving slowly toward the northwest. I saw them for about six or seven seconds before all traces of the herd vanished. I used my rangefinder to measure the distance from my position to where I saw the deer. It was thirty-three yards, easily within bow range.
When I arrived at the creek, I sat on a large rock that oversees a small ravine on the northeastern part of my property. Although my land ends here, it connects to a larger wooded area that makes up a large swath of woodland that moves from northwest to southeast across the county. While taking a break from my walk, my watch buzzed with a text from my wife. She had been speaking with her father on the telephone and she was wondering where I was. I texted back that I was on the rock where we found the beaver teeth and she responded she was on her way. I felt happy.
I sat quietly, listening to the wind blow through the treetops. Birds chirped and sang and water trickled through the creek. It was peaceful and calming. I listened for my wife, curious to see how soon I could pick up the sound of her moving through the forest. This was valuable intel and would give me an idea of what wildlife heard as I stalked them when I was alone. I expected to detect her when she was about one to two hundred yards away, since the winter forest is open and sparse. To my surprise, however, I only picked up on her visual movement, not hearing any noise, when she was about 15 yards away.
We sat rested on the rock for a while and I showed her a video of a bobcat I caught on a trail camera. We agreed the cat was large and looked mean. Bobcats are stocky and have a fierce presence, looking like miniature jaguars or cougars. We walked home together, blazing our own trail, ate some soup, and started our nighttime routine. I made some notes at my desk and quietly played the guitar for about fifteen minutes before bed, after taking a shower. I was tired and hoped I would feel better the next day.