Charli’s challenge 🙂
A black-cap chickadee flutters to the bare bush ahead of me. My bird dog trains her nose to the trail and misses the bird. Neither of us is a prime hiker, but we are both elated to be outdoors. Swedetown Trail spans uphill into the leafless woods of the Keweenaw Peninsula. The air crisps in my nostrils, and I puff steam like an old ore wagon, steadily moving upward.
Another chickadee flits and I wonder if they are living in this brush. Migrators fled south months ago. Like me, these are the birds holding out through winter, curious to see what Lake Superior drives our way next. She’s blustered, but not sent us any more snow. I’ve driven to her shores in hopes of one more rock hunt, but waves slam in a relentless line.
Writers can be relentless, too. I march my fingers to the page and write until…
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