Yesterday morning we had a fox visitor. I looked out the window while I was making coffee and the cheeky fellow came trotting out of the trees from downhill and took our driveway up the hill. He paused, about halfway up, and looked back at the house with a fox-grin before going on his merry way. He was in excellent health; great coat, HUGE tail. He'd make a great hat. (I have no warm fuzzies about foxes; one ate my last cat, and I'm still a bit peeved about that)
We went walking out on our land earlier this week. Not much water this year; it was a very low-snow year. Lots and lots and lots of moose dropping and hoof-prints. A single four-wheeler track, but only one on the private path, and it looks like they got onto our trail by mistake. I can deal with that. It was wonderful and peaceful, though the mosquitoes are building up defenses. They're still the slow, stupid early-spring mosquitoes, so they're easy to kill. It's the faster, smarter buggers that are such a pain later in the year.
I can't imagine living anywhere else. Driving to work the other morning, Jake and I were talking about safety. There were kids out waiting for the school bus at various spots, and in one case, a lone grade-school girl who looked about 8. I don't want to live in a place where 8 year-old girls can't hang out safely alongside a moderately major area road without fears of kidnapping and such. I don't want to live in a place I wouldn't feel safe picking up hitchhikers. I would hate living in a city where I couldn't see the sky and the mountains.