The clear low light of early morning flashed off the ripples of the water as I followed a game trail along the river.
Last year this tree which had been gnawed and abandoned by beavers looked like this.
This year it had finally surrendered to gravity. I’m guessing when it went down it made a big noise whether anything heard it or not.
One branch had been used by passing deer for the rubbing of antlers. At least that’s what I suppose. There’s always the possibility of being chewed up by a Sasquatch.
A rustle in the trees turned out to be, not a giant mystery bird, but a kingfisher on the hunt for his morning meal.
The ducks muttered to themselves and moved on down the bank into the shadows.
Frost had changed common weeds to magical crystal.
I realized the sunshine was rapidly melting away the illusion and I set about to capture it before it evaporated.
I was totally absorbed with my camera when I heard a branch snap nearby.
Something BIG was wandering around across the river. Moose? I’d seen moose there before. An elk or deer? They were known to hole up near town when hunting season started. Bigfoot? Werewolves? Rabid dogs?
How about something large and black like an angus steer?
Good grief, lady. Don’t get your panties in a wad.
I’m just trying to get some breakfast here.