I can smell the earth. The elbows of my jacket begins to bleed through from the wet soil. It’s cold and wet. My sight is occasionally blurred from the mist of my breath. There is a constant shift between silence interrupted by sudden splashes and geese honks. And then silence again for a little while.

Geese dominate the small bog, but only a few month each year during spring while they nest and raise their chicks. When the chicks can walk, they leave. The water is calm again and you can hear the sounds of the forest again.