The icicle-clad cliff, topped with hemlocks. |
I still remember the terror I felt during the first year of
my wilderness immersion program, Anake, in Washington state. My instructors
wanted me to wander. Wander?? Just go out into the woods and follow my
curiosity? With my sense of direction?!?
Hell, no, thank you very much.
And yet that wasn’t my real answer. I was drawn by the call
of the wild, so I did wander. Short
forays at first, longer ones with friends, then alone on my bike and in my
running shoes, until I had the whole area between the Mosswood Marsh, Kayak
Lake, Osprey Swamp and Lake Margaret mapped. Mapping was my savior.
The other day behind Ann’s place here in Jericho, Vermont, I
wandered around and discovered a breathtaking cliff, at least forty feet high, partially
composed, it seemed, of glacial erratic--strange rocks randomly placed,
deposits from glaciers long since melted and gone. I was enamoured…and yet the
sun was fading. I decided to take a different route home, and clinging
staunchly to my intuition and the daylight I had left, I made it.
A couple days later I was determined to find the cliff again
to look for porcupine dens. I struck a different course, and using the sun as
well as my compass I estimated where the cliff would be. With my faith in my
intuition and Anake navigation skills singing me onward on the one shoulder,
and my critical nay-saying self on the other, I made my way through the forest.
I discovered deer beds, red maple stands and red squirrel trails until—yes!!
Just over that hill was the exact spot that I was looking for.
What a success. I have come a long way. Hey, I still
frantically call my little brother sometimes from a thousand miles away to ask
him to look up directions on his smart phone for me. I forget travel routes in
my own neighborhood, in which I lived for 18+ years. But today, I was
triumphant.
The cliff was mesmerizing. Icicles, moss, swirling quartz
deposits and well-hidden cobwebs danced together in the mid-afternoon sunlight.
While I was looking for the porcupine dens on the warm, south-facing side of
the cliff, I stumbled upon a fantastic bear bite on a striped maple. Wow…the
secret lives of animals that exist all around us.
Bear bite! My finer points to the mark of a canine as the bear turned its head sideways to grasp this maple. |
I scoured the west half of the approximately 50 yard long
cliff, perplexed that I hadn’t found any hideouts of my quilled friend.
Finally, as I walked downhill toward the eastern end, the cliff turned even
more directly toward the south, and there it was: a perfect porcupine grotto! A
rectangle carved into the rock with a load of porc scat there. Another smaller,
more hidden den was nearby, again containing lots of the fibrous, deer-like
scat (but bigger).
Porcupine scat |
Porcupine Grotto--note 8" L shaped ruler on the ground. |
Thanks, porcupine. Thanks, glaciers. Thanks, Creator. I’m
loving exploring this wild, snowy place, and feeling not quite so lost in it
as I've felt before.
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