Knife3

I continue, walking further into the woods. The sound of traffic from the road behind me fades into the crisp mountain air. This chilly air feels good after the long drive. I haven't been here in a while. Let me think... I go over this hill, through that stand of cedar and then just up this steep climb. Yes. Here it is just as before. I look up and see my meadow. A small glade surrounded by tall trees, quiet and beautiful. Remembering back, the trees seem taller then they were before. I'm sure they are it's been twenty years. The small creek is still here but gone is the beaver dam that stood in the north east corner. I'm not too surprised to see them gone. Maybe further back in the wood they've found a refuge. It was August of 1974 when last I journeyed to this spot. Then as now I had come in order to leave something behind. In that long ago summer I had carved a wooden talisman. A pine branch about 18 inches long. One end was crooked with a large knot and had carved the image of a bearded man. Along its length was a pattern of interwoven lattice. It had been whittled smooth, and over all was a fine piece of work. I had spent some time in its creation and had every intention in keeping it. But somewhere along the way I got the idea that I should give this talisman to the beavers. What an incredibly bad idea, I thought. Never would I get rid of this! Look at it, its so cool. But the more I carved, the more I thought and the larger this idea became. It took such hold of me that only a few days after completing the carving, I drove up this mountain and walked to this very spot. I stood for a while and with one mighty heave I let loose the totem. I was aiming for the dam, but instead it splashed into the middle of the pond. The thing had slipped from my hand as I was throwing it. I was so upset with myself, how could I let it slip. What must have I been thinking, certainly not about the throw. As disgusted as I was with my poor performance I did not spend much time thinking about it for I noticed that my branch did not bob back to the surface. It was wood, It should be floating. Maybe this water was more like quicksand or something. I didn't know. I watched the ripples bounce off the shore, stood a while longer then I turned and headed back for my car.

So here I am, twenty years later. I sit down on this small hill just to look and relax. On the far shore I see a red-tail hawk flying low through the trees, so fast and silent . As before I find myself wondering why I think it important to do this. Maybe its like the wooden charm that did not float. Some things just are. Trust those things that you can never see. I look out to where the dam once stood and can't imagine how I ever thought I could throw something that far. Earlier, on the drive up I thought I should try to get the knife to the same spot I remembered the talisman had fallen. I was pleased to see this target was within my range. After a time I got up. Standing there this time with the very knife in my hand, I was so happy to be back. I was witnessing the beginning and the end of this circle. Then, with one mighty heave I let loose the totem. I heard it whirl from my hand but never caught sight of it in flight. I looked to the spot I was aiming for. Indeed, with a flutter-snap it slipped through the upper branches of a thicket and came down in the exact spot I had wanted, settling deep into the winter grasses.
I took a breath. I took another breath, looked at the dam, then back to the grasses.
I picked up my coat and headed back to my car.