Startled awake by the irritated snorts of deer, their hooves drumming the earth, he grudgingly relinquished their territory, awakening in a clearing that wasn’t his alone.
Blacktail deer were masters of the edges, ensconced in the cover of the dense forest during daylight hours.
A mere stone’s throw from the bank parking lot, he might as well have been in another dimension. Bank customers idled in line, yearning for access to their funds, while just beyond the tangle of leaves and tall grass, Blacktail deer staked their claim to a sacred resting ground.
Both he and these elusive creatures existed on the fringes of worlds, where adaptability reigned supreme over uniqueness.
Deep beauty required its own space and an unhurried dance with time.
Yet, the hourglass seemed to be running thin.
Following the Skipanon Trail, he moved away from the urban hum, hugging the river’s path before vanishing into the grass. Thorny blackberry branches clawed at his skin, a fierce reminder of his raw interaction with the environment.
Amidst the hush, the air crackled with the heat, and the scotch broom’s ebony seeds popped like firecrackers in the sun. Oregon’s most persistent forest weed had been chosen for dune fortification, its relentless seeds nesting in the soil for years, thriving on the nitrogen-fixing prowess of its roots.
Roots.
A currency he lacked.
What he did possess was an AquaQuest Bivy, a weatherproof haven, a shield against the impending night rain. A rigorous test for his gear awaited him – a night exposed, beneath the sky’s weeping gaze, straddling the boundary of man’s domain and nature’s embrace.
#bivycamping #aquaquest #bivybag