Pilgrim Creek Road

I’d been out since four. The elk rut was winding down and I wanted to catch the aspens before the wind took them. Got what I came for, mostly. The aspens were good. The other thing was also there.

On the way back I stopped where the road dips near the creek. There’s a smell out there sometimes that doesn’t match anything — not sulphur, not rot, not animal in any way I can place. I’ve noticed it twice now in the same quarter-mile stretch. I described it once to a wildlife biologist at a dinner party. She changed the subject with a speed that I found notable.

My dog, who has opinions about everything, had none. She just sat down in the road and watched the tree line. Ears up. Completely still. She is a dog who once barked for eleven minutes at a decorative gourd. She had nothing to say about this.

We left. She has since refused to get back in the truck on that road. We negotiated. She won. We take the long way now, which adds fourteen minutes. I have not told my wife why.

I’ve talked to one other photographer who works that area regularly. He went quiet when I described the location. Then he said “yep” and changed the subject. That’s all he said. Just yep. I have thought about that yep many times since.

Filing this one under inconclusive, same as the others. The folder is getting thick.