Journal: September 26. Hunter in a tree.

My old friend Elaine (we went to elementary and high school together--drove out from North Bergen.  She arrived around two--we repeated the yummy meal we'd eaten the day before (plenty of left-overs as you might have noted)--and then headed out for the hyper-humus walk.  I assured her we would not repeat the errors of the day before (she had been appropriately horrified at the tale of your mud immersion)  and also added that it was an especially good day to walk, as there is no hunting on Sundays.

Cleaning and laundering and sortings of blankets and laundry this morning (oh--I am the slowest in the world at these tasks--well--not slow folding--but it does take me weeks to get to it).  These minimal efforts at home improvement ended when Elaine arrived around 2pm.  She had been here the very first day I was sleeping here--when all was chaos and filth, so I was eager to show off all progress.  We had a grand feast of yesterday's left-overs--augmented by wine that she had brought (felt very lady's lunch in the country)--then headed out for a reprise of the Hyper Humus walk.  I assured her we would steer clear of off-trail adventures as I had no interest in repeating the muddy adventures of yesterday.  I was in the middle of an attempt at an explanation of my increasing tolerance for the many hunters who now populate my world when Elaine, glancing upwards, gasped.   Following her gaze to the upper branches of a nearby tree, I saw a man in full camouflage.   "What are you doing?"  I asked, with what I hope was only a slight tremor in my voice.  He replied that he was hunting. I had been told that hunting was not permitted on Sunday.    It turns out that since there are so many deer, they have lifted the no-Sunday hunting regulation.   I can't exactly recall our conversation--I told him we'd probably be walking back this way.  He replied that he'd been sitting in his tree since two (it was then about four)--and implying that our prescence would have scared off any deer for hours, he added that we had completely ruined his day.  This is not something you like to hear from a man with a bow and arrow sitting in a tree above you.  We apologized, and headed off.  Rather than return that way, we decided we'd be better off taking the longer, less scenic route home along the highway.  As we crossed the dam, we got a very close view of some hyper humus swans, evoking the calm, I've felt on this route prior to this very dramatic weekend.  I do believe that I was  more shaken by that encounter than I was by yesterdays wandering in the mud.