Last Seen Bearing

I've been long-accustomed to various animals crossing the drive as I go up when headed out, or come down upon my return. Deer, rabbits, wild turkey, a particularly daredevil squirrel and his or her siblings or cousins, the occasional snake, a couple of turtles. I've seen fox a few times. Brownie, my neighbor's cow, made an appearance on the drive during his one and only jailbreak.

The woods are thick on either side of the drive, and the creatures disappear quickly into the cover offered there.

Today, for the first time, it was a bear that crossed my drive as I drove home.

The black bear, not fully grown but not a cub either,  came out of the woods to the right of me, not far ahead of the car, moving fast. Very fast. I braked and stared hard but the bear was already gone, to my eyes at least, nor did I hear any sounds of his passage into the deeper woods.

Even startled and at high speed, the bear moved as gracefully and even elegantly as any wild animal I have ever seen.

The bear was gone long before I could grab my camera, but I still got out and took a few steps into those woods -- the same woods I have walked so often without ever seeing any indication of a bear, much less the real thing.

But I wasn't dressed for moving through the woods, not quickly anyway, and the bear was. Besides, I'd already startled him -- or her -- once today, and that was enough.

Quick Getaway

There are spots, many of them, around this little farm, where I can go for a few minutes and recharge myself before returning to whatever task or duty or obligation is at hand.

This is one of them, a favorite among favorites, just a little island of quiet in the woods, a spot where the light makes magic and mischief at the same time.

A place where I can be alone . . .

until I become aware of the birds, the squirrels, the spiders in their elaborate webs,insects buzzing, a snake seeking someplace.else, more.

These woods, and even the most secret spots among them, contain multitudes, and I am honored to be among their number.

There is plenty of alone here for all of us.

What Vanishes From The Meadow Lingers In The Shade

Yesterday's brief, lovely,.light snow was, as I wrote, just enough -- enough to coat the meadow and the trees, and not much more than that. Gone by midday today in those areas that receive full sun. Only a hint lingers in the shade at the edge of the forest.

A bit more lingers on my drive, as I expected.

Even the above-freezing temperatures today weren't enough to clear it. This weekend's warmup wiil take care of things pretty quickly, but until then, I'll be hiking to and from the car.

Which is no rough duty. The pantry is well-stocked, and I have no heavy or bulky goods to carry. The day's mail and newspapers, little more than that. I can take my time and when I pause it will be because I wish to, not to give my arms a rest or, as has happened more than once, rearrange things for easier transport.

 Not much snow remains in the woods, and I doubt if very much actually made it to the ground.

But what little snow lingers there is gorgeous and is itself, worth lingering over as I make my way past.

Which I did.

Driven To Walk Through The Woods

A measure of excessive caution borne of being stuck at the bottom of my drive one too many times, a sense of the already slick spots on my drive, and an obligation or two late in the week prompted me to move the car to its snowplace, as I think of it -- a spot beside the road at the top of the hill.

There, the car may well be stuck if it snows deeply enough (it won't, this time), but whatever weather comes, the car and I won't be fighting gravity as well as slickness. I will have to walk up the hill to be able to drive out it, but I don't mind that.  

Even less do I mind walking back down, either on the drive if carrying groceries and other things, or, as today, unburdened, down through the woods.

The clouds were already thickening -- with rain, mostly, I believe -- and the shadows in the forest were twilight-thick at three in the afternoon. Fine by me. I was in no hurry, there was enough light for me (if not my aging camera), and the shadows reminded me to take even more time. I lingered and loitered a bit, looking at favorite trees and rocks, smiling at the deerpaths I saw.

Emerging finally at the edge of the meadow, I stopped for awhile to look at the farm beneath the clouds. They still didn't look like snowclouds, but I still didn't regret moving the car any more than I had ever really regretted moving the now motionless truck, whose rearwheel drive had more trouble with a snowy drive than the frontwheel-driven Geo.

Neither vehicle, though, is as reliable in winter weather -- or the possibility of it -- as my feet.

And neither can take me through the woods.