Day 22

I settle onto my log bench, take a deep breath, and prepare to listen to the sounds of the woods in winter at night.

Lolli can never settle down when we come at this time of day.  She runs like a crazy person – always following the same route – to the left, around that pile of brush, and back to the path… then to the right, around another pile of brush… a giant figure eight.  And always at break-neck speed.  I know there must be wildlife… scents that get her riled up, but the animals never show themselves.  Eventually I talk Lolli into sitting by my feet… still, she must chew… doing her part to break down organic material and return it to the soil.  She destroys a piece of log.

The “wintery mix” that makes spattery sounds as it hits my jacket both soaks into the fabric, and accumulates in white piles in the folds.  A loud rumbling noise makes me think I’m in for another experience with thunder, though I saw no flash this time.  It turns out to be human sounds, amplified tonight for some reason… a plane overhead, snow plows and salt trucks on nearby roads.

Lolli and I both hear a rustling in the brush and we listen intently for a few seconds.  The log is more interesting and she returns to chewing.  I strain to see something, but alas…

As I return to my car I’m astounded that in such a short time my inbound tracks have become camouflaged by accumulation and the sculpting of the wind.