It was a quiet weekend on the mountain for me--no flash of redpolls to get the adrenaline rushing, no extremes of temperature or precipitation to deal with. In fact, I think it was the quietest weekend of the winter so far, and that suited me well enough.
On Saturday, Dog and I took a short walk through the woods to reach an open area behind the cabin a ways. This used to be, or was planned to be, a ski run, but as it faces the west, it got a lot of sun and the snow never lasted. Today, Roundtop mows it once a year and uses it as a quick way to get down to the bottom of the mountain where they have one of their snow-making ponds.
Dog and I explored around the edges, and I soon found a spot where the deer have been "yarding up" for the winter. It was a small rounded area, perhaps 15 feet across, devoid of snow and filled with deer poop. So this is where the deer have been hiding! Dog had to smell everything, of course.
We walk back to the cabin, through the woods and I now realize that our frequent jaunts out here have created a trail. It's barely visible, and perhaps no one else would call it a trail or even notice it, but we know. We skirt the worst of the rocks, jump over a fallen tree and follow the flatest area back up to the cabin. Dog knows the way and is eager to prove it to me. Back in the cabin I can see our tracks heading into the woods. Even without intending it, I have left footprints on this earth, though I expect spring growth will soon hide what winter cannot.