by snowbutt. » Tue Nov 29, 2011 4:31 am
Username- Waterstarforever123
Pup #- 1
Pup Gender- Male
Pup Name- Bells
Likes- Bells, Nice, Peace, Rainbows, Wings
Dislikes- Poison, Pens, Pencils, Knives, Bad
Story/Background-
The winter air was crisp and awake, and my breath formed ice crystals on the rim of my cozy sleeping bag. The pre-dawn forest outside was peaceful and still, disturbed occasionally by a Raven's caw or the rustle of naked branches rattled by a passing breeze.
It took willpower to root myself from the safe haven of my warm and comfortable bed. With shivering fingers I pulled winter gear over long underwear, and crawling from the tent I sucked in the biting air and enjoyed the sharp smell of early winter cold. Tranquil shades of morning blue filled the forest which to my delight had been blanketed by a brief dusting of snow, extending to any that choose to accept a cordial invitation to track the local wildlife.
It was a perfect morning.
My snug little campsite resides on the shore of Blackstone Lake just outside the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in Northern Minnesota. It is small, dark, high lying pool bordered on all sides by towering White and Red Pines. I stood in delight soaking in the view, stretching my sleepy body, and listening to the silence.
So quiet!
The freshly fallen snow seemed to hush the land, as if all of nature understood and obeyed the unheard "Shhhhh" whispered by its mother. Only my feet disobeyed, issuing a loud "crunch" that shattered the morning with every step. I was hiking a new trail and the thrill of uncharted territory was only outdone by the vastness of their surroundings.
Tucked into a steep, lower valley and just over a bony rimrock from my camp hides Secret Lake, a picturesque little pond aptly named and even smaller then its twin. It was while traversing this ridge only moments after leaving camp that I became aware of movement on the opposite shore.
In a heartbeat my senses prickled and came fully alive.
Nothing more then a visual whisper, some sleek and nimble creature weaved an agile path on the steep embankment. This was no squirrel or red fox, its presence was commanding and it slipped over windfalls with the agility of a ghost. Afraid of being noticed I planted my feet to the earth, yet I was certain the "thump THUMP" of my heart had already betrayed my presence.
Out of all the wild and lonely places in the vast forty-eight states, this only one which has never relinquished its sovereign claim to ancient and unforgiving rawness. Northern Minnesota is a thick and bony land choked with granite outcrops, tamarack swamps, obsidian lakes, and poplar and pine forests rich with the fragrance of decaying decades. It is also the only crust of land stubborn and mean enough to have preserved the predator which defines an eco-system in balance. This was the creature which lured me here on this frigid Minnesota morning, and this was the land which was now hiding this elusive shadow from me.
What was it?
Exciting possibilities toyed with reality, and yet I found myself perfectly unable to decide if I was thrilled or terrified. Opposite the life long anticipation I had come here in hopes of fulfilling there was an old fear, one I thought to have buried long ago, but which now found new and violent life. Alone and far from help I had a brief and terrible vision of a hungry wolf pack circling the small lake and making light work of doing me in.
As if sensing my naive fears and seeking to silence them the shadow broke into a clearing. The disappointment I felt was fleeting, as the buck was a commanding and inspiring creature who sported a rack of which he must certainly have been proud. His glistening coat rippled as vigorous and able muscles propelled him at impressive speeds across difficult terrain.
I watched at first with reverence, but then with curiosity as this majestic animal who aught not, at least with my understanding, fear even the most dreadful unhuman predator, ran not in a straight line but pranced and bolted as if dodging some unseen adversary. With eyes wide, head reared back, and steam blasting from his nostrils his fear was almost palpable. But of what? I looked about with anticipation for the wolves who were closing in for the kill, but of course there were none. The buck disappeared as quickly as he had come and the woods fell silent again. The entire episode had lasted at most four or five seconds, and as a substitute for the missed photo I studied the empty shoreline burning the image into long-term memory. This was worth remembering.
A short hike around the lake on the well marked Forest Service trails revealed his tracks, which were very much alone. There were no signs that any wolf had been chasing him, and in fact, unlike my previous journeys on these trails I never saw any fresh wolf signs at all. Where they had gone I did not know, and why they had left I could only guess.
A vicious storm had ripped through this country only a few months earlier, and the forest I had grown to love was now a tangled and unrecognizable grave yard of old giants to which the wind had dealt a fatal blow. Perhaps the wolves of this area had moved on to new hunting grounds where the storm had not dealt so harsh a hand? If they had, I reassured myself, they would be back. This section of the forest would heal itself; new saplings would take the place of their fallen elders, and the does and their fauns who feasted on them would bring hungry wolves.
When I was young I came to these woods with my father and brother, as I grew older I came with friends, and even later I came alone. I have heard the wolves howl, seen their tracks, and even found their kill sites. But for all the time I have been in these woods, I have never seen a wolf.
At least not yet. As evening approached I broke camp, hiked to my car, and headed home. I would be back and they would be here waiting for me.
Art- order please. ill try to see if i can do it but it looks hard >.<
Other- hi!
see my foot is lopsideed so my knees go apart which makes me run faster, AND i have a very arched back, i was misdiagnosed of scorleyosis, if thats how you spell it
)
(not expensive)
