Ghosts of the Forest

Spending time with my mistress, it’s good for the soul.  But, my “Spidey-sense” says I’m being watched…

Time spent with her has been limited from the nagging Achilles surgery which seems will never fully heal.  Getting up early, I snuck out of the house and drove to see her. Yanking new trail running shoestrings tight, I set out with a smile seeing her again on a cold and gray winter morning. The gravel crunch is deafened from my favorite playlist beating up my eardrums as I run, okay, trot, up the canyon floor.  Reaching a break in the trees, I feel eyes upon me and look up and catch silent silhouettes staring down at me.

Fortunately, only motionless mule deer are monitoring the trespasser as I drop my phone/camera back into a pocket to continue hanging out with my mistress.  Thankfully, fatigue is the limiting factor today instead of a screaming mad Achilles tendon rebelling from the abuse.  The trail run, once again, has been reduced to include intervals of walking.  Frustrated from feeling like a deadbeat while performing under expectations, she calls out as a reminder it's not about me, but all about her. 

It’s about noticing the final golden aspen leaves clinging onto the tree.  It’s about catching the silent eyes watching and enjoying their company.  It’s about the tiny blue flowers that ignore heavy frosts and refuse to submit to winter.  It’s about the complicated spider webs delicately clinging to a tree.  It’s about seeing a mountain lion track in heavy frost and admiring their ability to live among us as we continue to invade their turf.  It’s about the trickling stream with early winter’s ice glazing over rocks.  It’s about saplings rubbed bark-less from deer and elk antlers giving them a good thrashing.  It’s about the sun disappearing while moving through a dense pine forest with an impenetrable canopy.  It’s about respecting the trail and not cutting corners or traipsing on developing “short-cuts” that carve new lines for erosion.  It’s about seeing the tiny pelvis with shreds of ligaments still attached and appreciating/respecting the circle of life where the death of the yearling mule deer provided sustenance for predators and scavengers. It’s about the simple beauty of fresh snowfall cascading down a pine tree where pillows of snow held on branches sequentially join the mini-avalanche. It’s about the chuckle while watching a paranoid Abret’s squirrel stashing pine cones which helps reseed the forest. It’s about noticing the choke cherry bushes being picked clean by browsing bears, deer, elk, birds and associates.  It’s about respecting the power of nature when realizing the flood damage from a year ago moved monstrous rocks. It's about respecting 0 degrees Fahrenheit and managing the delicate line from underworking and being chilled to overworking and risking exhaustion or too much sweating. It's about the beauty of frost filled air highlighted by a shaft of sunlight making the world appear like a snowglobe full of glitter.  It's about being lost in thought with an invisible pacer running alongside and keeping me company.  It’s all about the rewards the mistress provides mentally, with the physical benefits simply an added bonus.

Miles flew by as I ascended the trail coming out of a draw and while  cresting the corner, she richly rewarded me.

 

Easily, the herd of elk exceeded 100 head with at least 10 trophy bulls scattered in the mix.  Lead animals were startled with my sudden appearance, but as I crouched out of sight, the mass of animals calmed and continued marching up the mountainside with most of them oblivious to my presence.  Mouths were agape with dangling tongues signaling something must have startled them from civilization down below.  They coincidentally were traveling towards the peak where I happened to be headed, so I was able to follow in the distance.  Incredibly, with so many sharp hooves chopping the ground, the huge group floated up the mountain without sound.

While nearing the summit, I heard a rush of air followed by a bull bugling.  He had to be close, but the trees were too thick as I smirked imagining he was screaming at me. I hustled to the other side of the peak and a churned up game trail reported to me that they had already passed.  I studied the surroundings and they had already amazingly disappeared.

Despite the hobbled effort from my body, my mistress put things back into perspective and was gracious enough to provide a chance encounter with the ghosts of the forest.