Wednesday, July 9
Spike and I come inside from greeting the morning around our camp. I slide the covers off Bridget.
“What a grumpy face! Wake up, you sleepy puppy! It’s time for breakfast and then we’re going on a hike!”
Ashley National Forest is a maze of dirt roads that wind through aspens, sage, and grassy meadows on rolling hills.
I like to drive very slowly, sometimes not much faster than a walk. I see more that way. A spotted fawn bounds ahead of us before turning into the woods. Rabbits stop, stare, and hop into the bushes. Chipmunks scurry across the road.
I step out of the Perfect Tow Vehicle with my camera. Bridget sticks her head out the driver’s window and barks in protest. Spike doesn’t care.
The PTV moseys through the aspens into a clearing.
“Oh, what is that?” A grouse? There it goes! It hurries across the road and into the grass and sage on the passenger side of the PTV. I aim the camera through the open window.
In situations like this, I point and shoot and hope for the best.
There’s another one!
I park next to a corral made out of cedar posts.
“Okay, you can get out now!” Bridget hops around, stepping on my hat and my purse, squealing with delight. Spike stands up on the bench seat and waits patiently. I open the side door and the two of them bust out, anxious to explore new territory.
I love how the crew becomes totally engrossed in the business of reading smells. They often “work” an area together as a team. While they explore, I look for photo opportunities!
We’re in an area offering panoramic vistas. It’s still early morning, about eight o’clock, and the light keeps changing. I take a few, distant landscape pictures. Most are too hazy to show here.
I’m attracted to the little scenes and activities going on around me, like this . . . .
When I come across nature’s creatures busy at what they are meant to do, I’m reminded of my good fortune to witness them. One important decision I made about ten years ago led me and the crew to this place. As I write this, I’ve had close to three wonderful years on the road. That road takes me where I want to be.
What if I had tossed the idea of living full-time as a vagabond in favor of the perceived security of a stationary home?
What if I didn’t choose this spur road in my life?
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