There is always an early morning jaunt up the mountain in front of the cabin or down to the lake to get the blood flowing and allow Stella to get the kinks out and do her business. Today it was the climb and for the first time here in Vermont, we stumbled upon a Pink Lady Slipper (this is in the orchid family). It was one of my mothers favorites and grew all over her 4 acres in Stanfordville, NY. After some cabin chores (re-pressurizing the water, there was a slight leak causing the pump to constantly cycle on), we went to an off the beaten path....well, uh.....path. These trails are not listed in any books, guides or on maps. The area is owned by a generational Vermont family and they have kindly opened their property up to hikers. But you have to be told about it or stumble across it. The extensive trail system sits on both sides of a dirt road and one can walk for miles and hours and not hit every trail that is cut. There are streams, waterfalls, swimming holes, bridges, an old mill, new and old growth forests, ponds, softwood and hardwood stands, numerous flora and fauna and an ungodly amount of bugs (nothing a little DEET won't stop and they are only bad sometimes).
On this hike, we walked the trails near the streams and ambled up a ridge, then back down to the road. The sights, while typical, always bring comfort and calmness to this old woods walker. There is the usual forested beauty with a sprinkling of Bunchberry Dogwood (a groundcover, that I believe is not native), the ever present Partridge Berry (berries have a slight wintergreen flavor) a nice swimming hole and to solidify Vermont's funky nature, a traffic light. I waited awhile, but something was wrong. I looked both ways then proceeded carefully. You can click on the photos to enlarge them.
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The stuff Stella finds in the woods! This is not an uncommon find, but it is so small a human has to walk quite near to discover it. If you have a canine sniffer, it is much easier. Stella will seek out such sickly scents and roll all over it. She has a particular affinity to fish. This one she found 150 yards from the lake and about 50 yards from the eagle aerie. Feathers, fish and fecal matter gets flung from the nest and litters the ground around the base of the white pine that holds our feathered family. Stella gets renewed at the cabin. So many sites, smells and freedom. The last is a double edged sword. She is 12 (acts like 6), so her twilight years should be fulfilling (hmmm...sounds familiar), but with the freedom, she develops bad habits, like not listening as attentively as usual. I just have to make my voice a bit more forceful and she reacts. Maybe she is losing her hearing. This is her after working the cabin property. at100 yards in, I see the fawn tangled in a downed tree. It's leg is around a branch and is awkwardly stuck. It's muscles aren't developed enough to get out. I slowly approach. Stella is clueless. She jumps past us, not scentsing (my word) the fawn. Ungulates will stash their very young offspring. The fawns/calves will lie stone still. They are scentless for obvious reasons. Then the doe/cow will make sure a predators attention is on her. I stroke the oh so soft coat of the fawn, lift the leg, stand it up and off it ungainly goes to join mom. Cool!
Yes, we may have panicked the pair to create the problem, but the woods are full of animals and being one myself, I too, frequent forests. Stella is attentive to my words and I've called her off bears, porcupines, coyotes, raccoons, elk and deer. These are the sights/experiences that get missed if one does not explore. I will continue to marvel at all that the Earth has to give. After working to get the cabin up and running, it gets closed down for winter, Stella (12 yr. old McNab) and I bike down to the lake for it's restorative properties. Some swimming and stick fetching helped wash the work from us.(Stella's work was ridding the property of chipmunks - she failed, but not for lack of trying) We took the trail less traveled and were rewarded with a springtime sight. Stella was chasing the chippy sound that defines her existence in Vermont. I noticed the flash of a white tail off to my left. Strangely, the doe came back, hrrumphing as she did. This is typical in the animal world, creating a distraction to protect her young. She wants us to chase her, much like the plover uses the broken wing tactic to lure predators farther from her nest. Stella became interested in the doe, but I called her back. The doe kept getting close to us, then running off. Each time she created the vocal hrrumphing. I knew a fawn was near.
Up at dawn, with the birds already chirping to each other. I take the path I wore in last summer, but nature's debris has rendered it invisible in certain places. I reach the shore of our large lake and am greeted by an old friend peering down from on high.
I taught 8th grade science for over 30 years and was able to retire at 61. There is still some life left in this old body, so the question is, now what? I like to move forward and pass through open doors when they present themselves, holding onto an eternal optimism that these doors will materialize. I call Hailey, ID home in the late fall through winter and Wilmington, VT in late spring and summer. Each day I walk through a new door.
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Retired Educator
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