Sunday, September 23
Joyce the camp host comes by. I tell her that I’m leaving in the morning. I think that makes the third time I’ve told her I’m leaving Natural Bridge Campground in the beautiful Rogue River – Siskiyou National Forest of south-central Oregon. This time I really am leaving!
I pack up everything except the crew’s pen.
I save that ’til last so I have a place to put Bridget and Spike in the morning while I’m taking care of the final tasks of breaking camp.
Monday, September 24
The crew sleeps late this morning. I slide out from under the quilt and lift the blind on the other side of the Best Little Trailer.
I open the door as quietly as I can, and follow the deer.
He goes down to the water, takes a drink, looks back at me, and takes another.
He climbs the bank so gracefully, it’s like he’s floating.
I can hear the crew howling for me from the interior of the BLT. I decide to let the deer eat breakfast in peace and go back to Bridget and Spike. They need to be let out.
I feed the crew their breakfast, and put the percolator on.
Bridget is walking so well!
We sit for a long time on a rock ledge right next to the rushing waters of the Rogue.
I’m so entranced by the thousand voices of the river that the chill air doesn’t bother me.
Spike and Bridget lean against me as I drink my coffee.
A small bird on little twig legs lets the icy cold water flow over its back, just inches from the roiling water gushing though the rock channel. The current can carry immense logs — the evidence is everywhere — yet this tiny creature is unfazed, totally involved in a morning bath.
“Well, guys, I guess we could stay another day.”
P.S. I admit that I did a lot of photo editing to improve these photos which were taken very early in the morning without much light.