Life is good

Can you imagine how scary it is to be a rabbit living in the forest? As a rabbit, you'd be a prized meal for almost every carnivore in the area. In our forest, your enemies would include weasels, pine martens, bobcats, mountain lions, foxes, and coyotes. That's not even including the aerial assaults by hawks, eagles, and owls.

One of my wildlife cameras keeps getting photos of this little rabbit, with a notch in his ear. I visualize that one of those predators almost captured this little guy. I'm rooting for him. He gets my medal of courage for today.

At a nearby camera, I frequently get coyote photos. It's a deadly game of canine and rabbit.

Every day, I try to spend some time exploring our forests, off-trail, searching for signs of animals. Two days ago, the Duo and I found undeniable signs that a mountain lion had visited a discrete overlook above where K and I watch the sun peek over the horizon at dawn. The lion had left behind a scrape in the snow and dirt, created with his gargantuan hind paws. For good measure, he'd also left some scat. I'm contemplating whether I should put a wildlife camera in that spot, for I know that lions have visited it regularly (but that can mean twice a year or twice a month, depending on the incomprehensible minds of the lions). While I investigated the scrape that the lion had made, K propped herself on a boulder, gazing down at our sunrise lookout spot.

It gave me the chills to see K adopt that classic predator pose because I visualized that a lion would do exactly the same thing. He'd be invisible from below but would have a view over a large plateau that deer and elk love to visit.

In the meantime, K and I are slightly more "on our toes" as we watch the sun rise. Today, the wind was blowing off the Divide, and K's ears flapped in the gusts.

Because K doesn't like the wind, I shepherded her to more protected spot.

I asked her to do a trick that she learned as a puppy. But, like many tricks, she had the misconception that she needed to stand at my feet to do it. So, for the fun of it, I've recently taught her to "take a bow" without scooting to my feet first.

K is a poster dog for positive training methods. Given her delicate disposition, she'd wilt under the pressure of "corrections" or me looming over her as the all-powerful alpha. Instead, we've developed a partnership, based on gentle teaching, that works for both of us. It's worked so well that I use it with R also, even though his disposition might be able to tolerate tougher training methods. I prefer the partnership and positive approach. It's much more fun than the alternative!

Today, after K and I took a snowbike ride together, I pedaled by myself to visit another trail network. Along the way, I saw a splinter faction of the elk herd. When the whole herd is together, they number well over a hundred. This year, I have the impression that they are under increased lion predatory pressure, based on lion tracks that I've seen near the elk. Perhaps that's why so many smaller groups of elk are wandering our forests and meadows.

As the sun emerged from behind some clouds, I passed a meadow dotted with aspen trees.

I rode through pine forests, catching glimpses of snowy mountains through the gaps.

And, finally, I emerged from the dense forests and saw glorious snow, aspen trees, and the deepest blue sky that I could imagine at an elevation of almost 10,000'.

That was my turnaround point. I rode home with the wind at my back and a nearly constant slight downhill pulling me toward home. I love snowbiking!

As always, the Duo and I headed out for a short sunset hike later in the day. R did a trademark enthusiastic recall, kicking up snow crystals behind him.

K let us know that she was not impressed.

Then, the sun fell low in the sky, lighting up the clouds in brilliant orange.

I captured the Duo in that sunset light.

Life is good.