Why do men sit out on the ice and fish?
And why do they leave at midday?
What motivates the lone skier?
Why are these tree stumps red?
And why -- no, I couldn't take a picture of it! -- was there a a deer leg on the path when we retraced our steps? Interesting, I said, how the hoof is so perfectly neat and elegant, and the leg is gnawed off at the other end. Nina points out that the leg wasn't there when we walked the same way earlier, and my fascination with the leg is suddenly replaced by thoughts of the sort of animal that must have come by with that leg so recently.
The world is a frightening place:
Don't stare into the abyss too long!
UPDATE: Unfortunately, the photos for this post were saved at Mac.com — an Apple service I paid for and which Apple later made unavailable, before I figured out how to save the photos. I'd like to reconstruct this post, but I so far, I can't.
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