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end, I watched closely as they grouped together diving in and out of the water. Their dark silhouettes in stark contrast with the fading sun behind them, they called and moved in sequence most of that evening. I sat there along the ridge and watched a large barge go by, visible aboard the vessel was a crane and obvious to me it substantial size, it quickly vanished up shore leaving me to wonder what lives those people must live and from what faraway places they the hail, Strange, to be reminded in a time outdoors and alone that there’s a whole world in motion around you. There after the sun began to set and I watched patently as the orange glaze hit the water in front of me, my presence was still being ignored by the loons chanting in chorus as day faded to black night. As they faded from my sight their calls continued.
The fire glowed bright and flickered, illuminating in brief succession the forest ahead of me, I prepared my extensive dinner of trail mix, cliff bars and tea I had brewed on my small burner. I enjoyed the company of a fine dog who had found his new affection for cliff bars and attended my last interest of the night, the flame I had created using flint, birch bark and bits of lint. I set off to bed that night climbing into a suspended Mylar and sleeping bag cozy. The hammock while comfortable offered little piece of mind, you're sort of left exposed to the unknown around you, I pulled the Mylar over my dog and I and laid there listening to the sound of the river estuary. Fading off waking only briefly to hear the sounds of deer crossing the creek.
The crisp morning brought me back to life as I opened my eyes to the blurred image around me. I shuffled out of the hammock and to my backpack for my gloves and jacket, reignited my fire and headed down to the river to refill my tea canister predicting my approaching desire for a hot drink, leaning down to water I glimpsed something briefly moving above me
