While it would be easy to remember only the disappointment of waking to rain and low clouds following a beautiful night at Boy Scout Beach this past weekend, I have just remembered the wolf!
The four year-olds woke early (before even the dogs) in their tent and I laid with them until 6:30 when we emerged into the drizzle and packed up camp deciding on breakfast at the Sandpiper would be a great motivation to getting going and out of the rain quickly. The four year old were troopers and walked the mile and a half back to the trail-head with very little complaining. Neither Melinda or myself had time for our coffee and were equally bleary eyed by the time we got all the gear and kids and dogs loaded up into the car and headed down the road in a thick mist. Nearing the intersection with Glacier Hwy I saw something gangly loping down the road. Not a deer, maybe a stray german shepherd? “Was that a wolf?” asked Melinda.
It was a wolf, long and lean and in a hurry. A dream runner on the hunt through the in-between time of morning, mist and fog.
something resembling both
somewhere in between
waking and awake
a paved road between
two roads or rivers
of ice and melt