Silent and still forest

The air is still freezing but the wind is quiet today. I rolled out on my snow bike into gentle snow and silence with K by my side. It was novel not to hear whooshing sounds from wind buffeting the trees, creaking of trees threatening to fall, and flute-like whistling as wind rushed through narrow openings. It was so still that snowflakes accumulated on K's back as we stood on Hug Hill.

I circled the bare top of Hug Hill, whipped clean of snow by yesterday's wind, to search for tracks below the snow line down in the trees. Often, mountain lions traipse close to this summit on a route that follows the elk herd but I found no lion tracks today. As I searched, the snow stopped and sun shined. This photo shows the brief moment when the snowflakes clinging to K's fur hadn't yet melted in the sunshine.

Amazingly, when we were ready to rumble down the steep hill, I could see the Continental Divide which had been completely invisible behind clouds just minutes before.

In the afternoon, I took the Duo for a hike. I had only a short time so I let them run their hearts out. Here, K gave R a searching look as they waited for me to call them. It looks as if she's seeing him for the first time and is wondering, "Who is that guy?"!

Then, they sprang into action kicking glittering snow crystals up behind them. They focused on each other rather than on me.

After a few recalls to "prime" them in case of an emergency recall, I let them romp freely. I felt like the three of us were a tsunami rolling through the meadow.

K's playful side, which has been slow to return after her months of convalescence, briefly possessed her. She tucked her butt and zoomed in circles.

There's nothing like time playing with the dogs to energize me. They live in the moment, and I try to emulate them.

This morning, while checking wildlife camera memory cards, I discovered that a coyote had visited in the middle of the day yesterday. It's amazing how they emerge from the shadows, just outside our windows, yet no one in the house notices.

I've been working on identifying the individual coyotes who visit our clearing, and I'm starting to think that the pack includes about seven coyotes. One in the pack is injured and usually shows up alone. He has a big scab on his right hind carpus. I hope that he recovers well. The coyote shown below looks healthy to me.

I'm glad that they're part of our world.