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i. i drag the canoes over the granite shingle of our island's beach the battered Aluma-Crafts leave my hand a dark metallic looking gray, which even smelled of metal we walk up to the campsite, a ridge, overlooking the lake, spread out around a fire ring set beneath pine trees so thick that no understory grows ii. as the long summer day cools we decide after dinner to explore choosing one of the island's many game trails, leading from the water back up into the woods beyond the campsite, we pack the food back into the bear proof barrel, grab our boots and set off down  the trail iii. the pine give way to a grove of aspen, the leaves fluttering as if by some wondrous enchantment, as the shrubs started to grow thickly on the ground channeling us into a narrower game trail with the large, misshapen granite boulders like a maze stretched out before us iv. suddenly we stood face to face with a giant bull moose with velvet covered antlers that seemed to be at least four feet across, he shook his head up, like a horse shying, so i slowly moved us behind a tree      to give him the trail v. around the fire wrapped each in our own paddle-worn thoughts we could hear wolves, calling across the island in mournful howls such a delicate balance of nature at work, my moose so full of life and spirit would be safe yet from the wolves
0
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 6:23 AM UTC
an incident on a granite island in a northern forest, 1978
i. i drag the canoes over the granite shingle of our island's beach the battered Aluma-Crafts leave my hand a dark metallic looking gray, which even smelled of metal we walk up to the campsite, a ridge, overlooking the lake, spread out around a fire ring set beneath pine trees so thick that no understory grows ii. as the long summer day cools we decide after dinner to explore choosing one of the island's many game trails, leading from the water back up into the woods beyond the campsite, we pack the food back into the bear proof barrel, grab our boots and set off down  the trail iii. the pine give way to a grove of aspen, the leaves fluttering as if by some wondrous enchantment, as the shrubs started to grow thickly on the ground channeling us into a narrower game trail with the large, misshapen granite boulders like a maze stretched out before us iv. suddenly we stood face to face with a giant bull moose with velvet covered antlers that seemed to be at least four feet across, he shook his head up, like a horse shying, so i slowly moved us behind a tree      to give him the trail v. around the fire wrapped each in our own paddle-worn thoughts we could hear wolves, calling across the island in mournful howls such a delicate balance of nature at work, my moose so full of life and spirit would be safe yet from the wolves
john-mahoney
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Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 6:23 AM UTC
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