Grouse

It’s the hard business of being that gets to me.  That’s what I’m thinking.  I’m thinking about the way you get worn down.   The day in and out of work.  Stumbling at the end of a day in the woods, or no woods, the ones cut down and me thrashing through the dog hair…

Beaver Lake

One morning, not so long ago, my husband and I walked together.  We followed a muddy wisp of a trail along the river to a beaver pond, or lake, as it’s called, Beaver Lake. The sun shone in our eyes and made the frost on the trees glint. We were chilled at first but the…

Finding The Trail

We circle as I point down at the trees.  There, I say, is the spot.  I see a creek and a patch of alder.  It is the first patch of alder beyond the bridge site. The opening I saw on the aerial photos back in the Forest Service office, the place on the map where…