Advancing veil of clouds

Yesterday afternoon K and I didn't walk far because she kept adopting this posture, worrying me about her paw.

Fortunately, although she still had a big limp that caused her head to bob with each step, she tugged on the leash this morning, eager to enjoy a wander together. She climbed on one of the myriad boulders scattered across our landscape by a retreating glacier eons ago. I didn't notice until I uploaded the photo that the moon still watched over her.

The sky glowed cerulian, and K noticed a feather perched in the seed pods of a Mariposa Lily. She sniffed it and sneezed! Then, I noticed its gorgeous outline against the sky.

After leaving K at home, I took a long mountain bike ride by myself. I missed having dog company. In fact, I repeatedly thought that I heard R sprinting up behind me like he did yesterday.

Alas, although I imagined dogs running with me, none were there. But, I enjoyed the beauty of the day, as it morphed from a bluebird day to a storm-shadowed day. As I rode along a ridge, the ceiling fell toward me and the air turned bitter cold. I crashed hard yesterday, and my injured wrist starting screaming with pain as I labored up the hills and attempted to control my steed down rocky hills.

I stopped for a rest and I noticed a tenacious Ponderosa Pine growing out of a crack in a boulder.  Not only did it perch precariously, but it endures hurricane force winter winds rocketing off the mountains visible in the background. I looked at it in awe.

Soon, the angry gray cloud veil that had hovered over the mountains swept over my head, completely obscuring the sun. Now, the view to the east had just a sliver of blue remaining.

As I entered the homestretch, I realized that my wrist felt marginally better and concluded that it probably wasn't broken. I even managed to grasp my rear brake lever forcefully to stop and look at these tracks. I believe that they are the tracks of a mountain lion. No other people or dogs, aside from me alone, have traveled this trail since it snowed 10 days ago.

These tracks moved purposefully across my snowbike path and under a pine tree with low boughs. I visualized the lion lying in wait for a distracted deer or elk to wander past. I also imagined how, when the ground is snow-free, I fly down this slope and could easily zoom past a lion under a tree without noticing him. His tracks then exited the pine umbrella and headed north toward a steep canyon wall. I followed briefly and wished our fiercest predator good luck before continuing toward home.

Nearby, I checked a wildlife camera that I've had up for weeks with NO animals crossing in front of it. Yesterday, I moved it by about 10 yards. What a difference a small adjustment makes! Camera placement is the key skill in using a trail camera. I'm still learning...

A buck yesterday afternoon...

A doe early this morning...

Followed closely by her fawn.

 

Very near here, I've captured multiple mountain lion photos. Now I know what attracts them!