I arrive and once I get my gear organized, I head up to the north fields. When I wandered up here a few days ago I felt something very old - something historical in the landscape. Clouds were low that day with the mist in the tops of the trees and it rained on and off. The mowed field, the forest backdrop, and the light seemed to be a summation of the Mathew Brady Civil War photographs that I used to stare at for hours. Something here was caught in time.
I decided to come back here and work my map, catching the north fields in detail. They have been planted with new trees and in a couple years, the opportunity will have disappeared. It will be a young forest. It is an easy survey, almost like shooting sights over water except that I get to go anywhere that I want. There are discoveries - deer beds at the edge of the field, and a whole field that I didn't know existed, hidden by a wall of somewhat taller cottonwood trees.
When I do enough for the day, I return to bunkhouse for a quart of lemonade and a short nap. Then I drop down to the milking parlor (workshop) to continue putting specimen boxes together.