The Free Radical

I had just written in my notebook the day before “I am feeling less and less a visitor to the forest as I’ve always been, and finally feel to be an active participant in forest life instead.”

“Not so fast, Niels,” answered the forest. “There’s still the matter of your initiation.”

The fist part of my walk had Whitetail keeping just out of sight, as though the deer were keeping a close eye on me. They’ve taken to making this snorting/whistling sound through their noses whenever I am near. I had heard it before occasionally, but now they do it all the time… like they wish to be in constant communication. They escorted me to the tenements of Ground Squirrel (gopher).

The boroughs (burrows) were all aghast with excitement and distress… and it had nothing to do with me. As I stepped into their frantic midst I quickly learned what all the hubbub was about. A very large bird of prey (predominantly brown) flew up from the ground where evidently it had been feasting. Ground Squirrel was lamenting the loss of one of its community members. I did catch the bird’s flight on my GoPro, but it was too far away to be of any practical use for lifting a suitable photo. The incident was just a quick reminder that although the forest’s main attitude is one of playfulness, it may become deadly serious in an instant. Right, note taken.

Shortly thereafter I came across a patch of scarred earth on a tiny hillock. A particular plant that had been mostly uprooted piqued my curiosity. I tugged it free from the place where it still clung in vain hope– little did I know that them were load-bearing roots. Those roots were helping to support the entrance to a wasp’s nest… which I quickly found out as a wasp landed on the back of my hand and immediately proceeded to sting me. Ouch!

It took me a moment to figure out what was going on. Fortunately, instinct had me immediately back off as I assessed the situation. Suddenly there was a whole bunch of wasps angrily milling about, looking for someone to sting. I must apologize for the poor quality of today’s picture, but I was very hesitant to shove my GoPro too close to the entrance where the wasps maintained their vigil. I only got stung the one time as I stood a couple of feet away filming my would-be attackers. It seems that as long as I showed no further aggression toward their home, they were willing to let me off with a mere warning. Right, note taken.

The sting on the back of my hand swelled up to a bump just slightly larger than a mosquito bite and was more annoying than actually painful. I took that to be my official forest initiation… not too bad; I can live with it.