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| LUCKY'S EAGLE |
Saturday, 5:45 PM. 29 degrees, about what it has been all day. The wind is WNW, picking up to a soft roar through the treetops as I left the woods a while ago. It is snowing, and has been since 11:00 AM. It is a sticky, slippery, wet mix, and there is about four inches of it on the ground. The last hour or more it has almost been a white out, a mix of blowing snow and ground fog. But the barometer is way up, so it should clear by tomorrow morning or a little later.
There were no deer moving in “my neck of the woods” today, the buck scrape had not been visited and the apples and cracked corn were touched only by squirrels and bluejays in the morning, while a couple of ravens croaked loudly as they soared above the pine trees. I heard a few shots around 7:30 AM off to the north somewhere, and a succession of four or five shots maybe a mile or more away about 10:00 AM, someone shooting at a running deer I assume. Also about then there was a chorus of coyotes, or more likely wolves from the sound of it, raising a ruckus somewhere deep in the woods off to the northwest. By noon, when I walked back to the truck to eat lunch, there was no activity of any kind, and that was the way it was all afternoon as well. I think the deer all anticipated the storm and bedded down in the deep ravines and swamps. But, tomorrow is another day.
Yesterday I went out to the Larsen farm and set up a ground blind by their pond, where there has been some deer activity and I have done some baiting. I will sit out there at some point when I feel like a change of scenery. Mike, now off to California seeking his fortune, shot a ten point buck on the property last season. While there, I put a nice pink granite headstone on Lucky’s grave. I had picked the colorful stone up a year or so ago along a trail because I liked it, and threw it in the back of the truck on a whim. Dogs don’t have much of an aesthetic sense, but I thought it was suitable anyway.
On the way home, driving on Hwy. K, I spotted this big bald eagle in a tree by the roadside. You may remember the story I told a few weeks ago when Lucky was lost, about the man (I’m sure an Ojibwe Indian) whose dog had gone off to die and he believed it returned as a white wolf to say goodbye. I said I did not expect a wolf, but an eagle would do nicely.
I hope you don’t think me an old fool for relating occasional tales of mysticism. Our present day culture demands that we be super logical, unsentimental, highly rational individuals, and that is good as far as it goes. But without the mystical, or non-rational (you will note I did not say irrational) our spirits cannot support faith, our minds cannot expand to seek and encompass knowledge which is beyond our present understanding, or our souls soar beyond the genetic constraints of our human intellect. So I am thankful for the eagle.
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