What’s going on out on the land?
A Story Of Stones At Old Baldy
I recognize that these are epic cataclysmic histories, but the stories held in the stones at Old Baldy have brought about a deep sense of peace for me when it seems so lacking in the world right now. Maybe it’s the disconnect of me not being present for the upheaval and torrent of glacial meltwaters and crushing sheets of ice, but doing the research, piecing together clues, and imagining the magnitude does create a profound sense of wonder and awe, a stupefying amazement in the unveiling of a billion years of mystery written on the body of the hill. I deeply appreciate the work and practice of listening to the stones and tracking the beauty of the land.
Trailing a Fisher at Old Baldy
We had just crossed over from the thick White Cedar forest into a little more spacious deciduous forest, when, in a very unassuming tone, a friend called us over to check out some tracks. I don’t know if he realized at first how cool the trail he had just found was, but as we stepped off of the path and looked down at the tracks everyone leaned in a little closer, and our voices started to ring with a little more excitement. Our colleague had found a Fisher trail.
Tracking Journal 2021.11.27
We had just finished part of our climb up Old Baldy, maybe a quarter of the way to the top, just finished checking out some pretty clear mouse tracks, bounding across our trail when we all sort of slowed and stopped. We knew something was a little different about the tracks, but it took a second to register. There were pretty clear, though not as crisp as some of the others we had seen. Perhaps that may have indicated some sense of age… Perhaps the air was cooler when the animal came through and the snow was a little more powdery? Perhaps the animal had come through during the evening the day before or maybe during night?