I hiked up Gardner today with the wolf-dog again. This is what it looked like, although not exactly, because my camera batteries died. (This is a substitute picture taken a few years ago.)I love to hike alone with a dog. I love not to talk, and to go at my own pace. There were other hikers on the mountain today, and I altered my route several times to avoid them. Because even distant loud voices, carrying through the trees, destroys the magic of being alone in the woods. There is something very steadying about this dog's company, and her soundless tread on the path before me. It's a beautiful thing to watch her large wolf paws springing along, her keen nose and ears working to translate all the stimuli of the environment. I can imagine her as a wild creature traveling for miles across mountains and plains; it is easy to fall into the romance of our adventure together, and imagine that she is growing as fond of me as I am of her.
At the top of the mountain, there was an enormous raven. A completely perfect specimen - lustrous, calculating, powerful. I've never been close enough to a raven to see all the details of its strong wedge beak and its rich, glossy feather coat. It was perched on a rock close to a group of hikers, who paid absolutely no attention to its presence. Seemed so strange to me that anyone could ignore the startling proximity of such a magnificent animal. I just watched as the raven inched stealthily towards 2 bags left unattended, beak parted slightly in anticipation of lunch.
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