Alone

I spent a few hours today, alone in the winter woods. The very woods were asleep, brown, sonambulent. Silent pines stood unmoving, watchmen over their neighbors. Nothing moved, not even the wrens who flit from branch to branch. The air was still, like the entire forest had exhaled and was in the moment before the inhale. I was alone in my thoughts and the woods were so quiet that my thoughts seemed aloud. It was a time for reflection and like any reflection, what I saw was myself. I pondered on the year and what it's meant and what I've done and failed to do and just about the time that I had finished my reflection, a rustling, a pattering, and I realized that rain was falling.

I adjusted my hat, picked up my rifle, and walked back to the truck, mindful to not disturb the sleep of my forest. Often times when we hunt, we're looking not so much for game as for ourselves. I found myself today in a silent wood and I am grateful for the opportunity.