1.31.14 A Winter's Tromp in the Wild Wild Woods

And how beautiful those wild wild woods were this beautiful grey, slightly blue winter's day.

We struggled through the underbrush of the woods, wild Raspberry catching hold to fur and coat alike. Winding invasive Bittersweet, small homes and tracks of activities , though with a 10 month old pup, anything you gaze at becomes of interest to them, and quickly dissapears in a volley of a million footprints all about. 

But down at the bottom of the foothill of the range, we came upon one of many deep deep ravines, and the glorious view of the Connecticut River's outwaters, as they lay below us. Home to geeze and duck  and turtle and so many more in summer, and the winter territory of our Coyote family come cold.

Winter, when all things are muted, quiet, resting.
Where all beauty is subtle, where wildlife is evident by the tracks and feeding visible. 

Where struggling through tangled underbrush, one may catch sight of small and larger animal homes, and the path left by the tiny coyote with their huge father meandering up the field. 

Where the Broadwing Hawk slowly circles far above, their silver-white underbelly glistening as, motionless, the currents carry them so high they finally are out of sight. 

And where, as we traipse out of the woods and coyote trail, and back up the wildlife covered conservation field, possibly two hundred Crow slowly pass by, as they do in winter, gathering together in late afternoon to make their way in that Southwesterly direction to their roost. 

As the sun slowly sets, the grey day becomes blue, pink and then golden, and as the pup contentedly crashes out back inside, winter's darkness finally falls.