Prints

Large snowflakes lazily waft downward from the low hanging clouds in the night sky and have accumulated to a fluffy layer about an inch deep on the trail. The fresh snowfall wipes Mother Nature's canvas clean as her artists busily create their most recent piece of work.

My headlamp's beam is reflected on the bright snow this early morning and footing is a little trickier since rocks are concealed.  But, repetition has my feet on autopilot while traipsing up the trail.

After climbing out of the top of the canyon, dawn breaks with squirrels chattering their warning to the forest of my intrusion.  I notice their activity in the snow.  Busy tracks traversing across the ground from tree to tree while periodically digging up a hidden treasure to take back and eat in the safety of lofty perches.

Tiny footprints with a line between them tell me of a mouse that scampered through the snow that, although not deep, it was for the mouse who's tail drug through the powder.

A bunny bounding down the trail had substantial distance from take off to landing points.  He was either scared and hauling ass or feeling rather jiggy in the cool mountain air and really stretching his legs.

Pigeon-toed tracks with long claws amble up the trail, aimlessly meandering from side to side.  Mr. Skunk was recently here scavanging for something to eat.

I glance up and notice deer and/or elk tracks having randomly crosshatched the hillside's powder and on the trail, I see someone from the dog family had trotted through.  The size of the tracks is peculiar and I can't determine if it was a large red fox or a small coyote.  Regardless, it did not risk running on the trail, but quickly cut across as if the trail was taboo.

Years of running mountain trails has me enjoy fresh snowfalls the most.  That clean layer of snow opens up an entirely new storybook and one day, while coming off a slope and making a quick turn to run up the next draw, there it was.  Eighty yards away and coming towards me on the trail.  It stopped and momentarily looked before turning and silently slipping away into the forest.

A mountain lion was encountered in the fresh snow and it was simply elegant and beautiful.  Its long thick tail wavered like a perfect counterblalance as it evaporated into the trees.  I continued up the trail and did not see it again, but the memory was cherished.  Not memorable out of fear, but out of sheer beauty and grace; one of nature's incredible predators.  Yes, anxienty tickled at my belly, but mountain lion attacks are so rare that they typically don't want to be even seen by humans, much less attack them.

Over the years, their tracks had been noticed in the snow from time to time and it was a delight to finally see the elusive animal that leaves such a recognizable foot impression in the snow.

Prints.  Nature's artists on display.