Never Forget

My cooking site was on a hill across the lake from camp, so that any wildlife attracted by the lingering scents wouldnt jump on our tent while we were sleeping. It also had a great view, that I enjoyed while sitting with my Ben and Maggie, my border collies, and eating our dinner.

After finishing my rice and tomato soup, feeding the dogs, and then topping that off with hot chocolate and white macademia cookies, I put all our food and my suntan lotion and bug spray in several scentproof bags, one in the other. I then hoisted them twenty feet up between two trees. Me and Ben and Maggie wandered down thehill and behind the lake, where red and lavender paintbrush, blue aster and pink mertensia stood in awesome beauty. I walked slowly, admiring each natural arrangement of wildflowers, set together just right as if from an unknown hand.

We ended up over at our tent, set in one of the last groves of spruce before timberline. I made sure everything was in its place for sleeping - my journal and books up above my head, my sleeping bag spread out to the base of the tent. Us three were tired and ready for bed, but there was still some light left in the sky.

I put my headlamp in my coat pocket, and started hiking up the ridge above our camp. Ben and Maggie went up ahead, climbing on rocks to look around, gazing back down at me to make sure I didnt get lost.

Before they reached the ridgeline I called the dogs back. I wanted to reach the summit together, so we all could get a look into the opposite valley for wildlife. I leaned down and held the Ben and Maggie's collars as we stepped up the last few feet.

At the top I scanned the grey landscape for a sign of movement, but didnt see anything. What lie beyond was so huge and far across that I could have missed something. My eyesight is not as good as when I was younger. I watched the dogs as they looked in earnest, using their alertness and power of vision to find things I could not.

I have been wondering lately how I will be remembered. If I could choose such a thing, it would be an image of me then, standing upon that alpine ridge, alone, with my two beloved dogs by my side, the last light of day showing in the sky behind us, in a place where wolves and grizzly come out from the cover of trees at night.

But that's not something a person can settle themselves. All I can do is hope that I will not forget, when I get to old to go up there, when my dogs face the same thing a few years from now.

Will we ever be so strong, our hearts so filled with wildness and beauty and mystery, as they were on that evening, looking down up miles of Montana wilderness, now nearly covered in darkness?