Beech Nut.
Just a brilliant morning. The trunks of the oaks made long, dark shadows against the snow on the hill. Temperatures about the same as yesterday—20s (F) into the lower-30s—but the wind had a little more giddyup. I heard a gang of chickadees out there early, poking around some small conifers.
In mid-afternoon, in need of a break, I headed again for Beech Hill. As usual, I hit the wooded section. The trail had been well traveled since my own boots christened it during the snow storm a few days ago. But after only a couple dozen paces, I came upon a pile of dog poop. A few paces later, another one. In fact, along the length of the upper trail, I counted eight piles of canine shit—half of them directly in the trail, and all dropped there within just the past few days.
I’m a dog man. I love dogs, they love me. Some of the happiest times of my life have involved dogs in one way or another. Also, I’m typically not bothered by a whole heck of a lot. Live and let live, I say. Then again, I simply cannot fathom folks who don’t clean up after their dogs. Especially on a public trail shared by many fellow humans (and dogs). Especially when they’re expressly asked to do it by the stewards of the trail (in this case, Coastal Mountains Land Trust). Is it so hard to carry a couple plastic bags in your back pocket? Have you no concept of community? It’s fine to treat the woods as a dog bathroom—but not, if you ask me, a public trail. Frankly, I just don’t get it.
Rabbit droppings?
Other than the dog droppings, the hike was a fine one. The walk up got my pulse rate up, and the air in my lungs felt clean. About half way up I heard the voices of herring gulls and saw a swarm of them through the bare trees down toward the bay, in the area of Route 1. At the top I stopped and listened. Branches squeaking together in the wind, crows in conversation on the other side of the hill.
On the way back, on the lower trail, mine were only the second pair of boots to pass. I think the first belonged to the same person I followed there a week or so ago. Judging by the tracks, she had a dog with her. Deer had criss-crossed the trail, and at one point I spotted what looked like fresh rabbit droppings scattered in the ice blue shadows. Ironically, because the lower-trail snow was relatively undisturbed, the trip down proved even more aerobic than the climb.
Dusk at 5 was lovely. And after dark, the stars hung sharp and crisp in the deep black sky. Rising, Sirius—my favorite star—flashed red and white and blue.
Today’s List
1. Black capped chickadee (voice, Rockport, a.m.)
2. American crow (Rockport, a.m.)
3. Herring gull (Rockland, p.m.)
4. Ring-billed gull (Rockland, p.m.)
5. Rock pigeon (Rockland, p.m.)
Afternoon shadows on the lower Beech Hill trail.
