pine cones-- leaves that have floated to the ground
sticks of all shapes and sizes some dry like merlot
tracks from poor animals
who always get blamed for scattering bones
of dead humans- found in forest preserve shallow graves
put there by cold blooded psychotics
looking at etchings my boot prints make in the mud
trail chubby checkering through the states
compass sunglasses matches
flashlight water snickers bars
nuts chocolates and fats for the thoughtful
tastes good for my kind
bathing in insect repellent
more water
hammock (don't like to sleep on the ground)
stealth camping carry in carry out
trusty knife bigger than I probably need
always feel better carrying a knife no matter where I am
muddy trails wet fall this year
stumps fallen trees--some leaning on their brothers
round rocks light rocks dark rocks striped rocks
rocks in my socks
each one with a story to tell
one time I went for a walk in the forest for fifteen minutes
came out eight hours later
I could go in hiking and happily never come back out again
threat of rain from grayish dark blue clouds
sketchy shelters, signs warning of bears
no grizzlies this far east, black bears
lay still, no wait make a lot of noise
I always get mixed up which for is for which for
I go off trail--hike alone
things you're not supposed to do but I’ve always been good at that
haven't fallen off a cliff...yet
leaves the colors of matisses’ palette
van dyke brown trees full of burnt oranges, yellows, reds
birds I do not see call to me
no contact with humans in days
the remoter the better
