In the morning, the air was fresh and cool and clear, so it seemed a safe bet to go down the road to one of the paths leading up the small mountain range.
Leaf filled forest, blindingly bright green! A minimum of mosquitoes, and residual signs of various wild creatures for Dante and I to thoughtfully examine.
Owl pellets dropped along the trail, small animal feces here and there. Bear scoring on trees and huge rocks, announcing their territory.
As we climbed up the trail, me hooting and hollering now and again, as it was a bit early; no use catching deer or large furred beings unaware. The small brook was meager in this dry spring, the forest floor coming alive with fern and Squawvine and Lady Slippers and their intricate pink pouches, and so much more.
As I tossed the ball far and wide, and he delighted in an off leash ramble,
once again, coming back to the land that snow and winter precluded for so long.
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