Wind plays dry leaves hanging on the dry oak trees like Chumash turtle rattles
as he walked along the bank of the Hudson River. Flotsam caught in cross-current
formed the ripples of spirit canoes. Early winter limits food sources as wildlife
holes up in their dens. The village depends on its band of hunters for survival.
Squirrels rustle in the dead dry leaves on the ground looking for fallen nuts. The hiker
turns to look, but the squirrel disappeared without making another sound.
The hiker pulls his hat down to cover his ears and his coat
up tighter around his neck as he surveys the woods around him. The occasional crackling
of almost frozen earth and the turtle rattles in the trees keep his eyes sharp.
A firm grip on his shoulder pulls him into the underbrush. The branches arch
into a low canopy providing a place out of the wind to sit a few minutes and
get a little warm before continuing on his journey. He relaxes. An arrow whirs
near his ear and pins a rabbit to the ground a few feet away. Before he can get
on his feet again, the rabbit and the arrow vanished. The sound of the
turtle rattle fades in the distance. He is warm enough to continue on his way
to the car park at the beginning of the trail.
A wolf howls and others join in. On impulse the man also howls in reply. A good howl seemed like the polite thing to do.
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