a narrative of epic exploration
We are undertaking a project of exploration in the great wilderness to the south. There are woods, the bounds of which we have encompassed in the course of our walks with the dog; but beyond those woods lie a great expanse of swamp and open water that we have yet to plumb fully. It is, however, only a matter of time!
Yesterday was our third expedition—well, the third for me and Rascal, but the first time that Leah was able to come along (the first two I was accompanied only by small children and, of course, my faithful dog). I had some idea of what to expect and was starting from the point where we stopped last time, so naturally we were more successful than ever before! There were trials, of course, like when Leah stepped into water slightly deeper than her boot was high, and then her foot got stuck, and then I hit her on the head with a stick (a big one too!) which I was trying to toss her to help her out of the slough—but I think she's forgiven me.
It was all worth it, though, when we reached the other side of Hartwell Creek (renowned in song and story) and saw the way that we might someday circumnavigate the great inland sea that so captivated us on our first expedition. Leah would have been even more impressed with our achievement if she hadn't been on a business call on her cell phone and trying not to pant. Good thing she wasn't too wet at that point.
We didn't try for the circumnavigation, thinking it the better part of valor and time management to head home after two full hours of exploration in the middle of a work day (some of which, of course, was working exploration thanks to the miracles of modern telecommunications). Although we might have done better going around the pond because our alternate way home led through some of the most difficult and annoying terrain imaginable. That's when Leah fell in and got clonked. As I said, though, she isn't too mad. She even says she might go back sometime.
Rascal liked it. Here is is standing on a beaver dam.
