Mountain Cats

When the snow falls, only the bunnys, the coyotes, and the mountain lions refuse to come down off the mountain. I stash my pack on the top of the mountain and make some laps in the morning glow of a shady north facing slope. I come across fresh animal tracks. Too big to be a coyote. Paw prints without claws. Bobcat or mountain lion? I don’t know, but I hope it can’t smell the jerky in my pack. From tree to tree the tracks proceed. Two big mammals searching for something in the snow. The cat searches for food. I search for… that which has no words. We are not friends, nor are we enemies. We are shadows of each other, and I’m thrilled by the fear I should be feeling. But it isn’t fear. And this isn’t a dream.

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One Response to “Mountain Cats”

  1. JacobR Says:

    If this isn’t a dream what is it? Watch out for those mountain cats, they don’t play nice. Do you carry a trusty blade with you on the lonely mountain?

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