Reflections

As I sit by the last dying coals of our fire in the quiet valley, the smoke gently curling from my pipe, I reflect back.

Just last night, a dozen hunters were gathered at this same fire telling stories, exchanging good-natured jabs, sharing jokes. All seemed good in the world. Many good laughs were had at the story of how our Native Scout had lost all his food the night before to some furry masked bandits. He assures us that he nearly stopped one with his war club. Then the joke becomes how could they have been brave enough to come into camp with all the snoring, especially the Grizzly Bear only six feet away. Crafty Devils.

But now, I am the only one left in camp. I stare up to the sky lost in a day dream. Watching the leaves fall in the crisp breeze, and thinking that it won't be long before these falling leaves are replaced by falling snowflakes.

Suddenly, my peaceful serenity is broken by the sound of thundering hooves approaching and 30 cows and calves lope by, being herded North for weaning.

I watch as the last black calf runs after his mother up the trail and ponder life. A grin comes across my face as I take the last draw from the pipe. It is time to get moving. I bury the fire pit, gather my gear, and hit the trail back to civilization.