One thing struck me as I was looking out the window one morning, I honestly love my time up north. 'Specially when it's me alone. Not that I'm stuck on myself but more that I can move as I please. Yeah, there's always stuff that needs to be done to keep the building from falling down and it always gets done. But the quiet of being able to screw up without any echoes beyond those between my ears is a pleasure. The only thing lacking when I'm there is endless time, or at the least, time that feels endless. Bored? Not yet.
On a walk out to Deadman I spooked a couple of acquaintances. Two years ago Lois and I came upon a pair of spotted fawns out there. They gave us a wondering look that seemed to ask if we were friends or not. Didn't take long for them to decide, turn tail and skidaddle. Since then I've read that if we'd taken the time to scan the area we'd have seen mama.
They've sure grown in two years. And can tear through the woods on a dead sprint. When they're scared, they run like horses. Think about that. If your vision of a forest is nothing tree trunks and duff then you're not seein' the brush and hangin' limbs that'll drag tattoos across your face. I learned a long time ago speed and pain go hand in hand.
What the hell, a man spends the bulk of his life going balls to the wall. There's a pleasure finally being able to take the time to do things right even if it's only spreading some hazel brush with his hands. Huh, almost sounds like a way to look at life. Gotta watch that stuff.
Though I don't intend for this to be my last time up north for the year it's time to clean it up like it is. All the freezables brought home, gear and tools stored, fridge cleaned inside and out, a dusting and run of the vacuum and I'm outta here 'til the next time.
In the meantime I'm hoping for a decent snowfall. There's a fair sized pile of what once was a young man's dream that needs incinerating. The pit's dug and ready. Six inches of snow would be just the insurance needed to protect the woods.