Wild Spot

There is not a cloud in the sky today. And it is warm. The weather is very fickle and it is interesting to watch the landscape here go from sopping to crisp. The ground isn't so cold beneath me and the lichen has resumed to its crumbly texture. It's amazing how dry everything has gotten. I noticed it yesterday, too, when I was in Millvale with my friend Dan. We hiked to the top of a large hill, started a small fire, and boiled some noodles over it. The fire a decent size in just a matter of minutes and it burned hot against the legs of our pants.

I woke up with a tick on my thigh this morning...from being in the woods with Dan yesterday. It must have crawled up my pant leg and was feasting on me all night. I scraped the sucker off and struggled to flick the thing into the drain of the sink. Right after I washed it down the drain, I regretted it, thinking that I should have kept it and analyzed it. But I was in too much shock. With all the hiking I have done, I have never had such a huge tick on me, just small ones.

It would be interesting to scavenge this area, looking for bones, broken glass, rocks, and pieces of metal. It would be easy to do a small excavation here. Before the end of the semester, I would like to perform a small excavation and see what I can find. Another thing I would like to do before the end of the semester is visit this place at night. I need to do both of these things before it gets too cold. Especially the excavation, because I don't want the ground to freeze too much.

I wish rivers made more noise, much like how an ocean does. I wish the tide was stronger and more turbulent. The Allegheny River is supposedly very fast and dangerous. Although it is intriguing for something so dangerous and slick to be silent, it would be very interesting to be able to hear the river from here...or from my house which is only four blocks away from the river. I don't hear the barges on the river right now, but I still hear the mechanical clangs of the factories across the river. The crows are still cawing in the canopy as it undresses itself in the wind. Soon the crows will be nothing but silhouettes on naked branches, their beaks open like the shadow puppets I used to make when trying to fall asleep as a child.

I have been staying up later. And so I have been even more intrigued to explore outside the confines of my house after the moon has risen. I shall come here soon, quietly, and with little help or light. I will sit here where I am now, maybe a little distant from the entrance to this cave, so that I do not disturb what may go in and out of it in the night. I want to explore the world that people retreat from when the sun goes down or when the weather is disagreeable. There is a whole world that we miss when we go in when it rains or gets dark. People tie these to danger, but I would like to tie them to wonder. Instead of just seeing the footprints, I'll see or hear the feet. Instead of walking through the bowing grass of deer-beds, I will see the glow of their eyes or the weight of their hoof.