New Year's in the hills

I had a pretty weekend for New Year’s. After the cold front, the skies cleared, the moon was full, and the nights were chilly. Big frost Saturday morning quickly burned off, and the sun warmed things pleasantly. I saw lots of busy critters during that Saturday afternoon warmth. Birds were fluttering around the branches, squirrels and chipmunks were hopping and rustling leaves. I even saw two armadillos… thought they should be holed up this time of year.

I was bow- hunting, of course. About sundown, I saw noticed some movement up the hollow; someone was waving a candelabra with white candlesticks in it. There… I saw it move again, up and down… had to be a big buck. He was far out of bow range, maybe a hundred yards, and was off through some limbs and leaves. I never could make out the body of the deer, and never saw him leave… just a glimpse of that big rack. Maybe tomorrow. Oh boy, when the sun sank below the hills Saturday evening, temperatures dropped quickly; and I was already shivering from the sight of those big antlers. I was glad to get back home to my cabin… simple pleasures of fat- pine kindling and the warm glow of a lantern.

The creek channel had narrowed and deepened and I’d been crossing on a fallen log. I had scrounged up a pole to assist my crossing… didn’t trust my balance over the water… thank you, Mr. Beaver, for cutting that sapling. The water was only about knee- deep, even allowing for the possibility of some quicksand; but that water looked cold. Sunday morning, early, I had no trouble crossing the log, but my return was precarious. It was still cold and now the wind was whistling around my ears and down my collar. When I stepped out on that log, it was icy! Maybe my earlier tread had slicked down the frost atop the log. I was almost skating off the sides with every step… I was grateful to have the pole to get me through such an exciting dance across the log.

I hated to break camp and go back to the real world, with those bucks rubbing trees and working scrapes. Gotta get back there soon; full moon ought to really get their juices flowing in the next few days.