I love to follow in the spoor of predators. The lessons such a journey teaches me are deep and profound.
I am fascinated with the level of awareness these mammals exhibit. Endowed with senses that eclipse those of humans, these denizens of the wild places move through the forests and fields with deadly precision.
Once I followed a Fisher to a maple tree which had been broken open by a wicked wind storm. Blood was visible on the snow which led me to believe the large weasel had killed something.
I was wrong.
Inside the open trunk of the downed tree, I witnessed the birth of a Porcupine. The Fisher had attempted to get at the soon-to-be mother, but her quills and her position within the tree precluded the attack. The blood was hers - but it was due to the birth of her little one.
The Fisher led me to that event which is now etched into my memory.
Every now and then, a chain of events occur which brings me into close proximity with these intelligent hunters.
When that happens, I know how fleeting the moment will be. I wallow in the moment for as long as I can because I know; special encounters such as these are few and far between.