Quiet Interlude

I wandered into the mossy section of the woods. Slate peeked through the path where the dirt had worn away, and in the woods, fallen pine trees were covered with lichen. The area in between tree and trail was mossy and green despite the December chill. It’s been a dry fall, no snow, little rain. It makes for good walking.

The trail curved steeply then followed a gentle slope to where it opened into a view of a corn field now fallow for the winter. I noticed a single turkey, or perhaps a large clump of dirt. No, it moved, definitely not dirt, but not a turkey either. I wandered a bit closer wondering what type of critter it was. Finally, it resolved into a porcupine.

I’ve seen porcupines several times on my walks, but this was the first one I’d seen on the ground. It was in the far corner of the field chewing on a corn cob. I like the calm of a porcupine. With their prickly defenses they can afford to be curious, or at least not to run at the slightest inclination.

I wandered quietly closer, stopping when the porcupine stopped eating. I settled on the ground and it eventually began to munch on the cob again. We sat (me) and ate (porcupine) in companionable silence for quite a while. The air had a bit of a nip, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I could smell the corn and hear the crunch of teeth against cob. It was a peaceful stop. Eventually the corn was gone and the porcupine wandered off, further into the field, and I wandered off, further into the woods.