Looking up at the sky. Water over my ears. Swimming across the river. Lift my head and look back and see eight or ten dogs in the water. They go where I go. Swim where I swim. Monroe is about to catch me.
We make a few trips back and forth with time in between to run up and down the sand bar and climb around on the trees tipped into the water.
It’s been two weeks away from here. Lots of work and no time in the woods listening to the dogs run. The dogs were wound tight, barking at everything. I know the feeling. Fixed that this morning while the fog still lay heavy and things were quiet.
One more day to hunt, in the rain, back off the road in the spruce trees along the river. Just me and Dusty Hope Buttercup Monroe Flyer June Sundae Hornet and Law, no crowds of people, cars, electronic gadgets, modern crap you really don’t need. Peace and quiet and dogs and the chase and rivers and trees and morning mist and things you really do need. Can’t live without in fact. At least I can’t.
These places are getting harder to find. Thousands of acres of trees nearby have been bulldozed and turned into corn fields to provide “clean energy” in just the last few years. Sometime soon we will look around and say global warming killed all the pine trees, and we will be right.