5:45 comes early. Breakfast, packing gear, out the door, and then meeting the rest of the biologists at 6:30 for a safety meeting. A few hours later we’re out in the field doing our job, looking for wetlands. We were sent here from Texas to do this project and most of us aren’t used to the chillier weather nor the hilly terrain. Huffing up slopes and sliding back down them on the slick leaves and rocks can be pretty entertaining.
Sometimes we find wildlife, but most of the time the forest is still. Autumn has arrived and it is blasting through, hustling for winter to arrive. Golden and amber leaves that were still attached to branches last week are on the damp ground today. Breathing in the cool, northern air reminds me of my southern roots and why I enjoyed Florida winters for eight years. The time is inching closer here to when the first snow will occur and I hope to not be around for that.
As we weave through forest, full of beeches, maples, hemlocks and the occasional pine, I often wonder how many people set foot in the same place we step. How long ago was a hunter here? When last did a hiker meander off trail to explore? I’ve yet to see recreational use of the forest we are in other than hunting. It’s disappointing with such a large populace nearby. This particular forest is packed with hiking trails begging to be walked on, bright orange red efts waiting to greet folks along their hike down the trail. Every turn offers something scenic, whether it is the texture of the cherry trees or the leaves brimming with fresh raindrops. Perhaps a hidden hemlock pond will come into view, moss covered rocks and logs bringing to life imaginary fairylands.
I’m thankful to be able to walk through these woods and happier still that I get paid to do it.
About the author: Misti is a biologist by training with adventurer and artist thrown in for good measure. She writes at www.oceanicwilderness.com
