The path we follow today is a path discovered a few years ago. Yet, now it bears noticeable differences. Initially, the path was narrow, flanked with wild blackberry bushes and ferns leading deeper into the woods. During the winter, the path became an obstacle course of trees unable to stand the onslaught of the high winds and mud that would sink my mud stompers almost ankle-deep in mire. Wild rabbits would scamper off in the distance and once we got into the wooded, shady forest, our presence revealed, scared off the deer. As mysteriously as they appeared they would vanish blending into the foliage making one doubt they had been there in the first place.

Now, the path has been broadened by front loaders, the dirt beaten down by gravel. The mud monsters laid to rest. So many logging trucks have traveled this path now. The path is no longer a path but a road into the wilderness. Progress at it’s finest, man proclaiming dominance over the once mighty sitka spruce, evergreens, spruce pines now reduced to a pile of toothpicks on a flattened landscape.

Through Gretchen, I still find the magic in the moments. She leaps into a nearby pond, actively chasing the frogs that swim quickly to their hidey-holes. With their absence, she turns her dog-attention to the waterfall and chases the ripples and bubbles the water creates in her wake.

I stay on the main trails now, heistate to branch off into the narrow, secluded paths. With all the hunting in the area now being that accessing the forest is easier for four wheelers, the larger predators have been reported in the area looking for fresh kill. I don’t wish to be on their menu and I know they would love to sample Gretchen if given the chance.

The changes now sadden me and will continue to do so for some time. I wonder a year from now, should I still be able to access this path what changes I will see then? Whatever they are, I fear they won’t be for the benefit of the forest.