May 15, 2024

Decay

When I woke up at 4:30 AM, the rain was finally over. Yesterday, the skies opened, dropping water the entire day and night. I chatted with my wife via FaceTime and then got started with my morning chores. I was not the only one happy the morning was dry. In the backyard, several species of songbirds sang loudly, while a squirrel rummaged for food in the front yard. It was time for everyone, including me, to get back to work.

I finished a writing session at dawn and then went into the woods for my morning walk. Everything was still soaked, which made the forest look even more colorful. The tree trunks were a deep chocolate-black color while everything green, like the leaves, shrubs, and grasses, glowed vibrantly. The pine needles that covered the grove’s floor, still saturated with water, were a deep rust color, and looked like clumps of wet matted hair.

The trail was soft with mud and there were dead leaves and fallen branches strewn about along the path. I laughed at the horrendous sound of all four dogs howling. Although they were inside the house, their cries carried into the grove’s entrance. I was curious to see what the forest offered today. The woods were usually active on the first dry day after a good rain.

When I moved from the pine grove to the old woodland, I noticed the deer corn I laid down was gone. Although there were no deer in sight, the wet ground became a record of their recent feast. There were deep hoof imprints on the muddied trail. Soft mud always made the tracks look bigger as the deer’s weight pushed more deeply into the ground. In the forest, the sweet scent of honeysuckle wafted through the thick air.

When I arrived near a deer feeder in the central portion of the property, I noticed all the devil’s walking stick plants had regrown. A month or two ago, my wife had kicked them all down while doing a parody of The Karate Kid. She would be home this weekend, and I would have to bring her to the area and let her unleash her fury. The plants were still green and easy to break. Once they matured, however, they were much more difficult to get rid of.

There was a decaying leaf hanging from the deer feeder that was perfectly backlit by the sun. It was so delicate, almost see-through, so I took some time to make a photograph that I later posted online. After spending a few minutes in the area, I moved on toward the creek. As expected, the water levels were high and the dual streams were rushing from all the rain that fell. I closed my eyes for a moment so I could focus on the sound of the water, trying to see how many spouts I could hear. They each had a unique sound. I counted five.

On my way back through the grove, a squirrel on a tree about a foot away from me, startled by my presence, screeched loudly, running up the tree. I didn’t see the squirrel that was perched on the backside of the tree’s trunk, and its hideous noise startled me too. By the time I figured out what had happened, I looked up and saw the squirrel a good fifty feet up in the tree. There would be no squirrel attacks today.

When I arrived home, I took a shower, put on some clothes, and got busy with work. At lunch time, I took a short drive to the Buckhorn Reservoir to see how it looked. I toted my cameras with a polarizing, black mist filter I wanted to try out. I shot a few pics of the wooden dock against the heavily clouded sky. There was a group of Wilson County Sheriff’s Deputies doing some sort of training on the dock. It looked like they were using fishing magnets to practice recovering evidence from the water. 

After work, I edited the photos I took of the decaying leaf and wooden dock. When I finished, I changed clothes and headed into the forest for a walk. It was a pleasant evening, but it still felt humid as I inhaled the thick air through my nostrils. The forest provided shade, but occasional patches of light shot out in random directions around me. When I passed by the deer feeder, I noticed the leaf I photographed this morning was gone. I felt lucky that I captured it before it moved on.

There was a weird smell near the creek. To me, it smelled just like bandaids. Even though I approached the area quietly, I still spooked a few ducks I’ve been wanting to shoot. Their wings were so loud when they flushed. I usually heard them in wide open areas like lakes and reservoirs, but in the creek area, surrounded by thick brush and trees, the sound was surprisingly arresting. I continued quietly toward the water. When I got within sight of the bank, a large turtle poked its head through the water’s surface, but it too detected me, making a splash as it quickly dove underwater. Today was not my day for stalking.

Near the water, just inside the tree line, I sat on a small folding stool, waiting for a bird to fly into the area to perch on a tree. I had suitable compositions with three different trees, but the photos needed a subject. This was a part of a photography style, known as “compose and wait” that I had been exploring. After twenty-five minutes, a small woodpecker finally flew into sight and landed at the very top of a tree. I set the composition, ensured the focus was on the bird, and snapped three or four photographs. The entire sequence of events took under six seconds.

After I arrived back at the house, I grabbed a back of leftover feed and dropped it in the grove near the trail camera. As I was walking back to the house, my wife texted me she was back safely from her walk. We liked to keep a similar schedule even when we were apart.

When I came inside the house, I almost skipped dinner, but I later threw some chicken thighs on the Traeger. While they were cooking, I spent some time with my family, first playing with the dogs, and then having a long relaxing talk with my wife on FaceTime. Tomorrow was Thursday, and because I would be off on Friday for a dentist appointment in Raleigh, it would be the last day of my work week.