10/8/25 7:00 40F (4.4C) Blue sky with a light breeze coming up the canyon.
It’s Wednesday morning, the last day in camp.
The creek is nattering on like a garrulous old man.
Somewhere upstream a squirrel is chatting with the birds, who whistle incredulously at his wild prevarications.
My morning fire pops and crackles as I warm my toes and wait for the old blue tea kettle to come to a boil.










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