Along an old trail
The art of the unexpected, or where I agree to go for a walk in the woods. That was today’s switch-up. Out in the sun, and along the old railway trail to see what had changed since my last time through. Realistically, not very much. On my list of things to watch for were artifacts, and there are none. I did see, in the undergrowth, a total of three ties; compared to the days when heavy iron came through, about one in a thousand didn’t go elsewhere.
My guess is that historians will be finding creosote soaked logs for the next century, underpinning building in a province where preserved wood will be rare. Some graduate student will check the history books and realize that the rails-to-trails movement had been extraordinarily successful.
As for wildlife, there are a few squirrels that protest, loudly, when you trespass on their territory. Not much else, although the dog might be responsible for our sanitized passage. Why do I never see a raccoon, or a skunk, or a weasel, or … (not going to do a census of the possible wildlife)?
Anyhow, we decided to go for the loop, by returning along a nearby country road. Just over six kilometers. Red mud, in places. We were joined by a familiar face as we approached the end of our journey. Odd how someone that I knew as “a mere lad” is now a seniorish citizen, with a career and a car and all the other accoutrements of age. We caught up on family ties and the exploits of a team walking around the Island before parting in the parking lot.
The afternoon ended when I stopped and arranged for winter snow clearing with a neighbour. The season is changing, quickly.
