Wandering Without Expectations

 Wandering through the woods can be an incredibly relaxing experience if you are in the right mindset.  

Most people seem to be in a rush to get to the next perfect spot to take a selfie; yet, in their wake they leave many wonderous sights behind.  

I have tested this idea many times while out on trails which are frequented by the public. I will silently sit in the woods, just off the path, and watch as people walk by. None of them are aware of my presence; unless they are accompanied by a dog. Dogs are keenly aware of the world through which they walk and will always spot me as I sit amongst the trees. 

The reason most people hike in the woods is to loose the tensions of everyday life, this is not possible if one decides to carry those tensions with them as they embark on their wander.  

I hope this short video will give you some ideas on how to loose yourself so that you can simply wander and wonder. 

Hawks. 

The First Snow Of The Season

 The date was December 1st 2024, I was watching the two beavers in front of my home preparing for the winter. They seemed to be in a heightened state of activity which made me wonder if they knew something the weather channel did not. 

Sure enough, slow steady snowflakes started to descend from a featureless grey sky. I sat on the bank of the pond and watched as the flakes landed on my pants, showing their unique patterns before succumbing to the heat of my legs. 

The Beavers did not look up from their work, choosing instead to continue the mudding of their lodge roof and stockpiling of tender saplings; upon which they would feast during their time locked beneath the ice of the pond. 

The snow started to fall in earnest and before the hour hand on a clock could make it to the next marker, we were engulfed in a snow globe. 

The following morning, I found myself outside, staring at the depth of the snow surrounding me. "This is mid-January snow!" I muttered as I trudged to the barn to extract my snowshoes and head off into the forest to read the tracks of those wild ones with whom I share the forest with.

Donning the shoes, I began to create the very first snowshoe tracks of the season. Snowshoe Hare tracks were abundant along side that of Red Squirrel and mouse.  I came across a few deer tracks but they had not yet created their usual trails. 

This video simply highlights portions of the trek which happened on the first day of significant snowfall of the season. 

I am happy that winter has shown up early and hope that the snow will stay to blanket the forest and protect it from the deep cold which will inevitably come when January comes calling. 

R.G.W. 

Why Camp?

 The sun had climbed high enough to evaporate the morning dew from the awning of the old tent which served as my shelter the previous night.  Bull Frogs called from the pond and bird song filled the spaces between the trees in the forest. 

As I exited the tent, the fresh morning air infused my mind with wonder.  I reached for a shirt which had fallen to the ground during the night. Upon lifting it, a white footed mouse scurried into the surrounding brush. It had been using the canvas shirt as a shelter much as I had used the canvas tent.  

I opened my food barrel and retrieved some granola to help fill the void in my stomach while I cooked up some breakfast. As I knelt on the ground re-organizing the food in the barrel; the little mouse had returned and scurried up my leg. I  looked at the little creature whose fur was as soft as velvet, and asked it if it would like a snack,  The mouse stared back at me, and timidly touched my finger with its' little hand. I gave the mouse a big chunk of granola and it scurried off into the underbrush to enjoy the fruits of its panhandling adventure. 

I spotted two beavers  on the water as they completed one last circle of their pond before bedding down for the day, I watched as the pair dove beneath the water and entered their lodge. The pond is a long narrow stretch of water which provides a host of animals, plants, insects and fish a place to call home. 

Taking a seat upon a stump, I began to ponder it's existence. It was once a small sapling struggling to survive. In time, it became a huge Balsam fir with mighty branches which could cover a house. Age whittled away at its youth and after sixty plus years of standing in the same spot, it succumbed to the power of the wind and toppled to the earth. 

I have reached the same age as the tree stump upon which I sat and I realized that time is no longer on my side. I must release my angst about things I can't control and embrace the moment in which I find myself. Thoughts like these can lead to one to lose site of the present so I forced myself to climb out of the proverbial rabbit hole. 

As if on cue, a Chipmunk found my place of respite and joined me in pondering the world. He sat on my lap and stuffed his cheeks with as much granola as he could. Jumping off of my leg, he ran away to stash his loot into his well hidden lair. 

A slight tug on my pant leg forced my attention to the ground; there, looking up at me is another chipmunk, the message had traveled, I had been marked as a provider of easy meals. 

The day light shifted as the sun ran it's course over this little spot on the planet. I moved through the day carrying out the various activities of camp life. My entourage of little forest dwellers followed in my wake and kept me company while the trees stood in silent witness to that moment in time. 

My ponderings of the morning had faded and I was totally immersed in living. Deep forest smells tantalized my olfactory senses and my ears tried to keep up with the voices and sounds of the wild ones. My eyes continually scanned for new messages and my logic mind was silent, while my connected mind absorbed the natural world and recorded images for viewing when future endeavors precluded me from camping.   

The sound of the forest subtly changed signaling the day was coming to an end and night was about to hold sway. I packed my gear and climbed into my canoe to embrace the coming dark and to share a few moments with the keepers of the pond. The beavers surfaced a few yards from my canoe and circled me to ensure it was indeed the person they knew. As always, the beavers swam straight to their dam to ensure it was in good order and took care of anything they thought needed a little bit of TLC and mud. 

I floated on the pond for a few hours while the mosquitoes buzzed in my ears. The stars filled the night sky like twinkling diamonds and the cosmos drew my eyes into its infinite wonder. 

 Animals, unseen, moved within the confines of the forest; I listened intently to their fruitive movements, trying to identify the wild ones using sound alone. A mouse can sound as loud as a raccoon in the stillness of the forest night. 

I had no idea what time it was when I finally climbed into my sleeping bag, nor did I care. Time out here is not calculated by electronics or gears. There is a quiet satisfaction which comes to a person when time is of little consequence. 

Drifting off into the mystery of sleep, I remember hearing the call of a Barred Owl. The banshee like wail resonated throughout the forest and infiltrated the tent. A beaver slapped it's tail on the water creating a loud splash, a warning to their young kits to stay in the water and not venture onto the land where the winged predator awaited. 

Out here, there is a sense of belonging to something much grander than one's own existence. You realize that everything surrounding you is there for a purpose. I disagree with the premise that animals are not sentient creatures; I have been around the wild ones for my entire life and can categorically state that each individual animal is fully aware of it's existence and it's uniqueness. 

If you are feeling lost or need a re-charge of your natural batteries. Grab a tent and some gear, pick a spot to set up camp and let go of expectations. 

Life is waiting - Out Here. 

 Happy Camping!

 R.G. 

Mother Raccoon Asks For Help

A wild raccoon has decided to take a chance and ask for handouts from a human - me. 

I normally do not do this as it habituates the wild ones and makes them believe that humans are not dangerous. 

News Flash - Humans are very dangerous; however, I decided to lend a hand in this case as I saw she was struggling to maintain her weight whilst taking care of her two young ones. 

Raccoons are omnivores and will eat almost anything. They will certainly eat anything that you eat and once these intelligent creatures learn where handouts are offered, Halloween becomes a nightly affair - after all, they are wearing masks. 

All that said, I named this one Scruffy as she always looks disheveled. 

Hope you enjoy her as much as I do. 

Bitter Cold and This Little Sled Still Goes

The temperature outside was - 25 degrees Celsius as I trudged toward my little 256cc sled. 

I needed to pack in the trails for future firewood gathering but I was unsure if the little Bravo would fire up. 

One pull on the cord and the little Yamaha started. The game was on and away we went to pack in the trails and collect a few pieces of firewood I had previously cut. 

It's amazing how fast the wildlife catch onto the trails and use them to their advantage. Instead of pushing through deep snow, they can traverse the land and conserve energy. 

In the coming days, my little Bravo will be put to heavy work hauling out the cord wood needed to keep the homestead warm. 

Stay Warm and Happy Trails. 

 

Lunch Time In the Wild

 Wildlife in wilderness areas are very aware of their surroundings. Any disturbance within their sensory range will evoke an instant reaction. 

The secret to remaining neutral, is to lower your energy signature by controlling your emotional state. Your excitement will trigger a flight response in all the wild ones. Unless of course your photographing a chipmunk; Those little creatures know they are cute and use it to their advantage. 

I always try to carry a camera with me when I am out and about. This is simply to ensure I have the ability to capture the moments when one of the wild ones decides to make an appearance. 

This video displays some of those random moments when I have been wandering and a denizen of the forest allows me to share it's space for a few fleeting moments. 

I am not a photographer, most of my digital captures don't merit a second glance; but, they do rekindle memories which allow my spirit to wander when my body is trapped in the world of humans. 

Happy Wandering. 

What's under your canoe?

 I plunge my camera under the water of a beaver pond in late May to see what is hidden from the seat of my canoe. 

It's a fascinating world under the surface. Teaming with life, a beaver pond is integral to the health of any forest. 

Happy wandering. 

What's under your canoe? The underwater world of a woodland pond. Part one.

Woodland ponds are an integral part of any forest ecosystem. Thousands of creatures live in, on and around these bodies of water. 

The transition from winter to spring is slow but dramatic. The previous years vegetation begins to decay over the cold winter months. Frogs and turtles dig into the detritus and mud on the bottom of the pond and enter a state of metabolism which mimics death. 

Otters, beavers and muskrats hunt and forage throughout the entire winter as deer, wolves and a myriad of other land mammals leave their tracks on the snow covered pond ice. 

As the ice melts, and sunlight once again penetrates into the depths of the pond; life awakens slowly to the gentle touch of the sun. 

This video is a short underwater exploration of a small woodland pond showing the difference between winter and mid spring. 

Fascinated by the process of renewal in natural ecosystems, I plan to film the pond in the same fashion each month until ice once again covers the pond's surface.  

  
  

A Skull in the forest

 A wander through the woods can reveal much about the world around you. 

Tracks and sign left by the wild ones lead to many discoveries and adventures. 

As you wander, the primitive side of you slowly comes out of hiding and reveals itself. You begin to blend into the forest and you start to feel the energy which surrounds you. 

As you shed the skin of civilization, your body begins to respond to sensory inputs which have laid dormant for far too long. Small noises now have meaning, bird song becomes a message and the tracks on the trail are the signatures of the creatures which call the forest home. 

Always enter the forest without expectations, leave fear at home, simply go for a wander and let your mind drift; the forest will do the rest. 

The Story of a Bear

 Years ago, I had the privilege of meeting a young black bear.  

He allowed me to wander with him for several years and our time together changed my world. 

I took a walk on a mid November night. The weather was unseasonably warm and the universe was wide open for my eyes to wander from star to star. 

I sat down on a rock outcrop known as deer ridge and decided to tell you the story of how I met the bear I called Blackie. 

P.S. 

Some words in this video could be considered offensive.   

Winter fades away to spring.

Winter is fading as the sun returns to warm the land. The forest streams are trundling their way to nearby lakes and ponds. 

The wild ones that persevered through the cold months shake off the chill and meander around the woods loving the warmth. Migrating birds are returning and filling the silent woods with their songs. Frogs and turtles rise from their deep sleep and move to the surface of the ponds to say hello to a world they have not seen for several months. 

Spring peepers; small frogs with huge voices, call out into the night creating a chorus of sound which fills the hollows of the forest with deafening power. 

Soon the black-flies will come out from under the leaf litter and fill the air with their clouds of annoyance. Knowing that they in turn will feed the fish, makes their arrival easier to accept.  It is simply part of the cycle which makes the forest healthy and whole. 

Into this awakening world I move, as quietly as possible and without purpose. I want to soak in all the sights and sounds of the spring for I know, without question, spring will turn to summer and new sounds and sights will fill my mind and spring will fade into memory.    

Once again my paddle can dig into the cool water and my canoe can glide silently into the wilderness carrying me into the world which I call home. 

  

If an owl lands close to you, is it an OMEN?

To some, the owl is a harbinger of bad news. If a person should encounter one of these winged predators during the course of their day or night, bad luck will surely follow. 

The only time that portent could be possibly relevant is if a person should suddenly find themselves transformed into a rodent, bird or rabbit. 

With acute senses, these birds of prey hunt with unrivaled accuracy. Their eyes are capable of capturing enough light that even though you literally can't see the hand in front of your face, they can see the buttons on your shirt. Their ears are situated on their head in such a way that the roundness of their face acts as a sonic dish allowing them to hear the slightest of rustlings on the forest floor.

The wing tips of an owl are softened allowing them to fly soundlessly. As their wings push the air downwards while in flight, their wing tips lift and dump the captured air in such a way that no sound of their flight can be intercepted by their prey. 

I have had many encounters with owls. On one occasion, a barred owl swooped down and took the hat off of a fellow paddler while we were traversing a small pond. I may have incited the owl to do this by mimicking the owls territorial call. The winged predator decided to show us who was in charge. 
The reaction of my friend dumped us into the shallow water and after the shock wore off we laughed until our sides hurt. I am sure the owl watched the entire show. 

  
Laying within your tent, your head cushioned by a pack or pillow and your eyes scanning the nylon walls which seem illuminated by the darkness of the forest night. Your ears will reach out instinctively and scan the forest for sound. If you are lucky, you will hear an owl call out into the night. A soft sound which echoes through the forest and resonates off cliffs and trees. It will enter your consciousness and instantly propel you into the primitive world to which we once belonged. Call back as best you can, you may be answered. This time the owl will answer from very close by indeed, for this bird is territorial and will investigate even the worst of imitations of it's call. 

  

How to create an incinerating barrel

When you live in a relatively remote place, it is important to dispose of your refuse properly. Bears and other wild ones will be drawn to your house if the garbage is stored close by. 

I burn my garbage in the contraption shown in the video. It is a simple barrel modified for air flow. The heat of the fire pulls fresh air in through the opening at the bottom and a tornado effect ensues. 

This setup will incinerate everything you put in it.

To cut the hole, I used a cordless grinder with a cutoff disk. It took me about twenty minutes to make and I have used the same barrel for about 5 years.

The bottom has rotted off of it and the sides are wearing thin, but it still does the job. 

Since employing this method, garbage altercations between me and the wild ones have completely vanished. 

  

A Winter Walk in Algonquin Highlands.

The March sun fills the forest with a warmth which has been absent for several months. 

As the sun stretches the shadows from the trees, I wander through the woods with no destination in mind. Animal tracks dictate my direction of travel.  

Wandering in this fashion allows one to purge the concerns of tomorrow and live for the very moment in which you find yourself. 

Even if it is just a fleeting release from the realities of the man-made world in which we all must function, taking a walk in a place where trees grow and wild ones walk always returns me to a place within myself which I call home. 

Whenever you get a chance to drift away from everyone and wander through the woods, don't hesitate, jump right in and lose tomorrow for today. 

  

The wild ones follow my sled trail.

I have several trail cameras set up at strategic points within the forest which I call home. 

Seeing the tracks of the wild ones and trying to discern the animals movements and actions from the tracks is something I love to do. To have my thoughts verified or nullified by camera footage is a great way to hone my skills as a tracker. 

Deer have a tendency to yard up in the winter. Simply stated, they stay in areas which provide them enough browse for food and can be easily navigated. This is a survival strategy which has existed for thousands of years. 

White tailed deer go into a state of lowered metabolism during the cold months. This allows them to survive during a time when food is scarce.

Feeding deer in the winter raises their metabolism and can actually be detrimental if one cannot keep a constant supply of feed for the deer. The animal's will not be able to survive the winter in this heightened state if the food source is not constant. 

Deer, like us, will take advantage of hard packed trails for the simple purpose of energy management. 

The Algonquin Wolf is an expert at energy management. It too will follow the trails laid down by my sled. This animal is integral to the survival of the natural forest. It keeps the deer moving and ensures their population will not strip the forest bare of vegetation. The wolf and deer were together long before ships landed on the shores of what is now called North America. 

Next time you see a wolf print superimposed on a deer print, be assured that you are walking in a forest which is still intact and natural. 

 

Moon Light Tracking.

The forest under the gaze of the full moon is a beautiful sight. The snow glows with a blueish light and trees cast their shadows far out into the open spaces within the woods. 

I have never been able to resist the siren call of the full moon. It pulls at me as if I am tethered to it by invisible strings. 

It was minus 18 degrees Celsius the other night when I laced up my moccasins and entered the mystical world the moon had painted. There would be no need for artificial light on this hike. 

I only walked a short distance before I came across the trail of an Algonquin Wolf. The photographs in this video were taken hand-held and as such are some-what fuzzy.  

Consider yourself very lucky if you catch a glimpse of one of these intelligent mammals. I have had that very privilege several times in my life. They are very much like ghosts but they do leave tracks. 

I love to follow in the tracks of the wolf, for he has a lot to teach those that want to learn the ways of the woods. 

   

Martin the Marten comes to visit.

The forest is a place where life is precarious and lived one minute at a time. 

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. 

    

Sounds from a beaver lodge.

Beavers live in a tight knit family group. When the kits are born, they suckle from mom for a month or more before she weans them off her milk and introduces them to a diet of plants. 

They are very vocal, chattering and talking to each other all the time, day and night.  

I love sitting on the lodge just to listen to the chatter of the little ones and to interact with mom as she fixes the "roof" of the shelter. 

One day, I decided to record the little beaver people. I placed a microphone into the vent hole of the lodge and hoped I would capture the conversation.  

The sounds you hear in this short video are those of the little ones within the lodge. No bigger than the palm of your hand - they make up for it with the power of their calls. 

Hope you enjoy their voices.