The grouse stands dead still as I approach, banking on the notion I haven't seen her, her feathers resembling the pattern of bark on the tree.
I love the sound these grouse make in the woods. I must find a way to explain it -- it's more like a soft pressure on the eardrums, the sound an owl might make if it tried to whisper. Sometimes you wonder if you heard anything at all, yet your brain and body are telling you there is some presence in the forest. The first time I heard it was twilight, and spooky.
My Path: One hour and two minutes (yes, two minutes :) ) Lost Lake trails, sweat-inducing Nordic walk-run. Those sticks are awesome!
And another chapter down ....
Hope the last days of August are treating everyone well.