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.
