July 31, 2022

Nervous chatter from squirrels filter from the tall, dark forest ahead. Raindrops tap away on the tarp over my head. All that separates me from their world is a tarp, zipper and a screen. The ants, spiders and winged insects climb the netting above me showing their underbellies. Deer and antelope clear their throats and chew as their hooves meet the dry, solid ground. My stillness and shallow breath allows me to eavesdrop, though they are but a few feet away. I am nearing sleep when i hear something on the other side of this thin tent fabric, The musty, gamey odor fills my nostrils. I recognize the crinkle of plastic. It's fiddling with a full water bottle I'd left within reach.. This goes on for some time and I am losing good sleep. I hiss. It stops and then continues. I hiss again. At some point, it tires of me, or I of it, and i drift off until morning.

Yesterday, I woke to the high pitched call of coyotes. They were close. I was accustomed to them from my tent stint in Virginia. It sent my heart racing the first time around. The lone wolf was a new one for me. It was eerie and lonely far off in the distance.

The rattler was a new one too. I guess I'd seen one as a child perhaps, in my Florida days. I was mesmerized as i was just heating water for my bath and with a clink of the lid on that stock pot, the chiggg-chigga-chigga warning echoed in my head. There he was poised and irritated as I interrupted his moment of drinking the last bit of warmth from a smooth rock...his nightcap. I changed the rules only yesterday, trying to tidy up and put all in order to leave, to move on. Tomorrow is my fourteenth day. I had been waltzing around this fella the whole time. I greeted this stunning creature, apologized for my invasion, thanked him for the warning and relocated my bathing station a good 75 feet away. Sitting in the metal chair, I prepared for my bathing ritual. Timing was important. With too much heat left in the day, I would sweat in my tent. If I waited too long, the cool wind would cut through me. I glanced at the sky to be certain the clouds wouldn't cover the sun for the 5 minutes this will take.

I hear the faint sound of shimmering and take pause, being reminded of the rattler. I follow the chalky white bark to the tops of the aspens where the leaves rustle one another. I keep one eye open for the duration of this bath.

I looked for him today, but I feel sure he is waiting for me to be gone. I am too. I have been searching for two days now and will search again tomorrow. I am losing my compass...my footing. Oh, for stability.