In a perfect world man would never suffer violence but it would hammer nature. Violence churns it, grinding deterius into consumable parts;  a necessary brutality. Aki and I find a trail of violence from today’s trail head to our turn around spot on the Breadline Beach.

Aki, dashing ahead to investigate finds it first, a shredded deer hide scattered over the forest duff. We find no bones or blood or sinew, only hair and a few strips of fur.  Aki wants to move on but I linger to admire the beauty that this evidence of destruction brings to the forest floor.  A hunter probably discarded the hide nearby. Scavengers of the forest did the rest. The scene reminds me of a shredded rabbit skin I found near my snare line when we lived in the bush. A raven’s wing pattern decorated the nearby snow.

After crossing a hand hewed creek bridge we cross a muddy bottom land then climb to a still frozen muskeg meadow. The oranges and pinks of sunrise show through a wall of old growth spruce lining the opposite side. It’s almost 11 AM and the late sunrise reminders us of the impending solstice.   Nature’s violent winds have been at work here, snapping off limbs and tree tops foolish enough to reach too far for sunlight. The strengthening light turns this meadow of stunted growth into a sculpture garden.

After the meadow we drop into a spruce forest growing at the top of the Breadline Bluffs. Most are young, less than 100 years old, but we find a pocket of mature spruce tucked in a little valley.   There were more of them before rain erosion weakened the hold of their shallow roots and wind and rain undercut the cliff land where they grew. Some dropped to the beach below. The stubborn ones just snapped in half while resisting fierce storm winds. Their jagged stumps still point north in accusation. Those trees still standing near the cliff edge have wrapped their roots around exposed granite,

Moving with caution to the beach we catch a diminutive Dall Porpoise surfing in rollers just before they break. Even though Aki and maintain silence, the porpoise disappears but we still have the sunrise, now filling the ski and sea surface with yellows and blues. A gentle ocean swell, almost timed to my breathing, makes the only sound until a gull fight breaks over a nearby herring ball.  Aki wants to return to the forest. Perhaps she knows of fierce battles for survival fought here by the trees. The next one could be as soon as the next high tide.