The fall air at elevation

is cold clear and crisp

refreshing like water

 

The huckleberries are ripe and plump

the trail is covered in purple signs

what's beautiful and tasty also warns

 

The hair stands up

electrified on the back of your neck

you no longer feel alone

 

The wind whispers softly

gently menacinging your psyche

playing games

 

What was that?

your imagination screams

your heart hammers

 

Your sixth sense

knows your not alone

it's unmistakable

 

The vibration of the forest

reminds you who the visitor is

and who belongs there

 

as suddenly as it comes

though it lasts an eternity

the calming of the soul returns

 

Twice I've been in the woods and "knew" I wasn't alone. One of the times was on a hike up in the Selkirk mountians of north Idaho near the Canadian border. As we hiked to an alpine trout lake for a little fly fishing, my wife and I walked through about a mile of huckleberries. About every 25 - 50 yards through the patch was fresh bear scat. As we passed through it became apparent that we were not alone. I'm not prone to crazy feelings or psyching myself out and neither is my wife which made the whole experience that much crazier. We both felt like we were being watched. Shortly before we got through the huckleberries the feeling went away completely. My wife felt the relief too which made the whole thing too coincidental for me to brush off.

 

We did reach the lake and as I put together my fly rod it started snowing. I made three casts and decided that being four miles up in the mountains during a blizzard was enough cause to not hang around so we headed back. Despite being a little tired from the uphill hike we sprinted the mile through the huckleberries on our way down. Literally. Try singing the chorus to "Roxanne" at a sprint AFTER a four mile hike with about a 2300ft elevation gain.

 

Heck, the bear was probably across the border in British Columbia before I finished the first verse. I'm just that good of a singer.