A walk in the woods of Quebec

From the Journal: 8/29/2010

I took a walk this evening, an hour before sunset, south along the east short of the lake until the beach disappeared under the cool water and I found moosetracks submerged and untouched.

I climbed a tree, and then a second, to ascend a cliff by the waters edge. Once I made it to the top I rested in the calf-deep Carribou moss and watched the sun start to drop down below the hills. It rained this morning and the moss held pounds of water per foot. I was soaked through seconds after kneeling.

The paths I walked back to camp are old and were not made by man. There’s bear and wolf scat near them, fresh moose tracks nearby, and blueberries all around. They — the paths — are cut deep in the moss, and seem eternal. I feel they’ve been here as long as the lake itself.

…and its quiet. When walking alone in the woods I often can’t help but whistle, click my tongue, or snap my fingers every so often. Far removed from the small, persistent, sounds that haunt modern-life, the woods are almost unnervingly silent.


Posted on December 24, 2011, in Exploring and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I love your blog. I find it very fascinating, informative, and full of nature things I love. In fact, I like your blog so much, I’ve included it in my list of nominations for the Liebster Blog Award. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t feel like it, but hopefully it will bring more visitors to your corner of the internet and they will fall in love with your blog as well. Thanks!


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