Wind blows hard into our faces here at sea level. We start climbing anyway to reach some open muskeg meadows. A passing dog walker warns that it will be whippy “up top.” Last month we might have turned around but it looks like winter has packed up for the year, leaving behind this sunny warmish day. Wind no longer delivers pain.
Several feet of snow still cover the land but it is slowly collapsing from within. It has no chance against the lengthening days to come. Yesterday’s thaw followed by last night’s freeze set up the meadow’s surface nicely for us. Aki dashes in zig zags through the shore pines until she fines fresh deer tracks. I join her and look at the sharp edged gashes made this morning by a large deer’s hooves. Spring can’t come soon enough for him. Later we find older tracks of a wolf who might be searching for the deer.
Sunlight reflecting off the field of snow makes me lazy so I close my eyes to listen. This is a dessert for birds and therefore quiet so Aki’s footfalls sound like those of a trotting horse on the snow crust. When she settles beside me there is only the wind blowing over my ears and the trees. It makes sound but no music. Sometimes it mimics rushing water and other times, a jet engine. Each tree is a cello’s string and the wind the bow. Ironically wind only produces music when moving over man made things like power lines.