Lone Jack BURNED

I have not posted in an unusually long time- though its not because I havent been out!

The gentians have come and gone at JSmith; I was surprised to find the scaly blazing stars and false-eared foxgloves with seed pods and dying leaves. I really expected that the seasons were not as advanced as far as they seemed to be- Was hoping to return from Colorado in late summer.

Lone Jack was all ablaze last week; the smudged yellow MDC crews drove their ATV's and pickups out of private property.

I didnt notice or even suspect any kind of burning until I smelled the smoke that'd settled onto the lake. I turned around and drove a bit down Browns rd. to my favorite access. The burn had left almost half of the area smoldering where things were not too green.

A few patches of debris were still flaming, and a thin smoking line separated the fresh leaf litter from long stretches of black and white ash.

The smell was good for me; there is something powerful and rejuvenating about such a thing. It truly heals a person as directly as it does the earth.

I walked around to the furthest point of the lake and turned around. The log on which I found all of those awesome little yellow mushrooms on just a few days earlier was ashes. A HUGE inky cap stuck out of the green trail and a few small patches of puffballs had turned to dust *literally!* on some old hunks of bark; It is certainly the season for the things, but we havent had rain in many days.

Robins are everywhere! It was like a single giant flock was invading the area. Their hoots and laughs were heard through the entirety of my hike- disrupted only by a loud group of grackles above us all and a few gunshots from an adjoining property. That vast, rank stand of Indian grass was nothing but a few scattered dogwoods and raspberries and a whole lot of black!

A few ducks- I dont know what kind- swam around in the shelter of a cove. I walked off the path- amongst the oodles of deer-stands. I saw only one big dark blob..

He sat still far in front of me on the edge of a field- directly in the path to my truck. I walked towards him. The blob showed no detail; the bright sun on the opposite side of him overpowered any identifying marks. He sat still enough that I began to doubt his being a hunter.

I was about 50 feet from the tree in which he was parked before I decided that to proceed may be dangerous. I picked a branch from off the ground and snapped it violently over my thigh. He flinched and looked over his bow in my direction. I waved and continued up the path that I had found. I was almost under him when he nodded and I whispered an apology. It reeked of a bitter piss. I assume that it was that of a doe- maybe the hunter had simply marked HIS spot!?