Huge rain. Muddy trails. Bugs rising up out of the earth, tiny things that cling to my eyeballs, suck up into my nostrils.
Spiny softshell turtles pile up on a far bank, couple hundred yards away from the trail. The view was hidden by the trees, but I caught a glimpse of them through a small clearing. They seemed bigger than painted turtles, flatter than snappers. Shy turtles.
Chipmunks barking on the trunks of trees, chirring at passersby, to each other. They ran all over the trails, always seemed to have their cheeks full.
The next day, dry and windy, cottonwoods blowing in drifts. Cardinals are everywhere. Crows creeping in the newly plowed fields.
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