Day 68: Snow and frost tell the story of an unseen group of visitors prowling the yard at night. Prints leading to tender shrubs, to the bird feeders and to the recycling and trash bins testify to a hidden population of larger creatures who are searching for easy food. I seldom see the raccoons, although the deer make daylight appearances, and an occasional elk wanders through. It is harder to find tracks in the months when the bear and cougar are active, although I have found both animals' prints in my driveway (I've seen the cougar's tail as it whipped around the hedge as the cat fled the scene, startled by the security light). A few days ago, I spotted what I was sure were bunny tracks lolloping from the safety of the filbert toward the highway, but no coyote prints followed, although I've heard them singing in the pasture. Each line of progress is a sentence in the greater story authored by the snow. I do not know where it goes, this tale, nor where the tracks lead once they have passed through the chapter of my yard.
