Autumn 1891 – The Last Hunger of Daylight

 

The forest was quiet. It was not the quiet before a storm or the quiet of small animals when a predator was near. It was simply quiet. The warmer breezes of the day had begun to chill into the colder winds of night but they still carried little sound. I heard the distant call of a crow and the splashing of a small creek down in the thickets. 

Esau’s trail lead up, further into the mountains. If I were unlucky, his den would be somewhere up where the snow had begun to fall.