I set out to return to a meadow that I hadn’t been to since my youth. It is about three miles in from the edge of town. There are no special memories there for me, it played no formative role in my life, but for some reason I feel drawn to it. It is strange how some places can grab your soul and not let go. This place has no name so I call it Deer Meadow for no other reason than I saw deer there the first time I found it. The forest service has added some logs beside the fire road but otherwise it remains unchanged from fifteen years ago. I hope it stays unchanged so my son discover it for himself one day.
This is the view about half a mile in. If you enlarge the picture you can just make out the meadow toward the right.
Saw the deer tracks get thicker and thicker as I made my way up the mountain.
Some cat tracks as well.
The final hill up to the meadow was a skating rink. I had to bushwhack for a bit to get around it.
I finally crested the hill and was rewarded with my goal.
The next day I decided to take a walk along the river. Found a week-old lion kill, not much else in the way of wildlife (which, depending on the wildlife, might have been a blessing.)
The rest of the week was spent working and dealing with the mundane broken up by time with Kory and the boys. I hope your week was as fulfilling as mine.