Write about: the park ranger.
Had a family walk at Haynes Point this morning, which Max always loves. I wish we could get him out there every day. At least now that the weather is gradually warming up we'll be able to do it more often.
Split and hauled firewood this afternoon. Felt good to get the (non child related) exercise and hopefully we're stocked up to last us a little while.
We have almost reached the end of January. It always seems like a tough month to get through in these parts. Not that February is all that much better, but it is one more calendar flip closer to spring.
The carcass had still been warm when he had reached it and it hadn't taken long to spot the trail of fresh blood leading away to the south. They must have heard him coming, which made for rushed, messy work.
Good, he'd thought with a grim smile. That would make tracking the bastards even easier.
Once he caught up with them a decision would have to be made. The gun slung over his shoulder was loaded and well used, perhaps more than was strictly necessary for his post. But he needed to do something to pass the time, and as a result he was a very, very good shot.
Would he need it today though? These were desperate times, and black market prices were skyrocketing. The poachers could be grizzled veterans of the trade or baby-faced first timers, driven to drastic measures by the loss of a job or even an unexpected medical bill.
Regardless of which category those he pursued belonged in, the taste of the coppery air on his tongue as he moved quickly through the woods was all the reminder he needed to know that they deserved to be brought to justice.
He just hoped that it would not be directly at his hands. Unless it proved to be extremely obvious that this was not their first poach.
In which case.... well. Practice does make perfect, as they say.