One sweet snowshoe!

a girl,
a dog,
some snowshoes,
a camera
and as an added bonus
a talented snowkiter
who showed up out of nowhere.












































The photos of the snowkiter just don't do him or the sport justice. You really need to catch a video or just watch them in person.

For myself I have to say after watching this guy for about an hour I want to go fly my own kite! Up the mountain, down the mountain, loop-de-loo! Some of the sweetest stuff I've ever seen on snow or off as the case may be! Check the video it's kind of long but right good stuff set to sweet tunes.

Autumn Dreams

Autumn Dreams

I know the year is dying,
Soon the summer will be dead.
I can trace it in the flying
Of the black crows overhead;
I can hear it in the rustle
Of the dead leaves as I pass,
And the south wind's plaintive sighing
Through the dry and withered grass.

Ah, 'tis then I love to wander.
Wander idly and alone,
Listening to the solemn music
Of sweet nature's undertone;
Wrapt in thoughts I cannot utter,
Dreams my tongue cannot express,
Dreams that match the autumn's sadness
In their longing tenderness.

~ Mortimer Crane Brown

All photos in this post were taken yesterday as I wandered Route 20 between Arco and Carey.

The old dilapidated house is west of Arco and it sits behind a fence marked 'No Trespassing'. The house looks like it is constructed of very thin pieces of stacked slate and I really would like to get a closer look. It is a piece of art.

The car is east of Carey just sitting in a swampy field. It too is a piece of art although it changes quite regularly as different people tag it.

Both the house and the car I believe to be Route 20 icons.

As for the faded flowers I don't know what they are. Dog and I took a walk east of Craters of the Moon (Dog can't walk Craters of the Moon the rocks hurt his feet) and that's where the flowers were found. Yesterday, although blustery cold and grey was a fantastic fall day just right for wandering, by car and on foot, and for dreaming.

All creatures great and small

As the great wolf debate rages on in court today I am saddened by the thought that by tomorrow hundreds of thousands of hunters may converge on the packs that have now made Idaho their home.

I myself have yet to encounter a wolf in the 'wild' here although I spend almost every day out there; whether it be for work, pleasure or just obligation to dog I walk hundreds of miles and spend thousands of hours throughout south central Idaho many places of which the wolves call home. Someday I hope to encounter one or more here however I fear that if the wolf harvest does come to fruition I may never have the chance.

I don't know what the answer is in regards to humans and wolves coexisting in the same place. Our management of the wolves and their reintroduction into Idaho has gotten us where we are today and today there are many very angry people on both sides of the debate with I believe humans and wolves both suffering.

I wish I had a photograph or two of a wolf to share but since I don't I will substitute other various photos of numerous creatures that I have come across here in Idaho all of which have caused me to pause and be thankful. (The photograph of the moose was taken in Maine though but I couldn't leave it out as it is the most magnificent creature I myself have come across in the 'wild'.)











































































Saving the best for last. A coyote that dog and I ran into two weeks ago. A very fat and happy one. We ran into it as we were hiking into a stream bed for work and it took pause before it continued down the slope ahead of us. We saw it again a few hours later tracking us from above.

In closing an excerpt from A Sand County Almanac,

“Thinking Like a Mountain”, by Aldo Leopold

"We were eating lunch on a high rimrock, at the foot of which a turbulent river elbowed its way. We saw what we thought was a doe fording the torrent, her breast awash in white-water. When she climbed the bank toward us and shook out her tail, we realized our error: it was a wolf. A half-dozen others, evidently grown pups, sprang from the willows and all joined in a welcoming melee of wagging tails and playful maulings...

In those days, we had never heard of passing up a chance to kill a wolf...When our rifles were empty, the old wolf was down, and a pup was dragging a leg into impassable slide-rocks.

We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes–something known only to her and the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunter's paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view."

Fields of Blooms

Camas lilies and lupines are in full bloom all over Camas County.

Camas lily (Camassia quamash)
















Meriwether Lewis, of the Lewis & Clark Expedition, wrote of the camas lily in his journal in the spring of 1806: "The quawmash is now in blume and from the colour of its bloom at a short distance it resembles lakes of fine clear water, so complete in this deseption that on first sight I could have sworn it was water."


























Yellow headed blackbird found in the Camas Prairie Centennial Marsh







































Wild lupine (Lupinus perennis)