(For now I am unable to upload graphic content from the www. Looks like I may have to begin taking photos myself. You will not like that. If I was any good at photography I would have made this a photo blog from the get go. In the mean time, I will keep on writing. There is too much crap going on in the world right fucking now to not be creating in the midst of just what may yet become an inter-continental revolution.)
I walk the same paths again and again. That is about all I have in common with Charlie Sheen except for booze and drugs.
Yesterday I was on one of those muddy paths near my home with the Hammer when I noticed my dog was overly interested in something below the path near the creek. Off she went down the slope. Right after that I heard the sound of something moving at a horse's speed through the trees. Did not see anything.
When my dog soon after gave up the chase she returned to where she first saw whatever it was she saw. She always does that. She began sniffing the spindly winter-worn branches well above her head. Whatever it was was big and probably related to Bambi.
Sure enough in the mud were deer prints. So close to home! Guess there are other deer, hungry enough to leave the relative safety of their mountain sanctuary, down in the low smoky country eating fresh salmon berry buds and the other bits of green growing very near sea level and no where else.
I have spent enough time in the bush to know it was just one deer the Hammer put on the run but where there is one deer there are almost certainly others. Glad the Hammer did not spook the deer right into me. Hate it when that happens. Cannot help but look an animal right in the eye when that happens. Same for the animal. Hello. We do not often get to have a real good look at each other: human and wild.
I do not think the wild likes us motherfuckers.