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This is not my story it was wrote by Bernard Doove
The day had dawned still and clear. There was a chilly bite in the air that made it all the more refreshing. My fur and Trina’s easily kept us warm, but Kris’ fur was lighter and he preferred to wear a jacket, although I suspected that he wouldn’t need it for too long. The hike would soon warm him up and the weather promised another hot day.
We had our breakfast before dawn and we were prepared to leave shortly after sunup. It was our intention to make our way to the mountains to the south where the trail made its way through a high pass and it intersected with another path from the east. There we would meet with my sister, Goldfur, who would join us for our hike for the next couple of days. Shi seldom got the opportunity to travel with us as hir work as a starship technician kept hir a long way from Earth for many weeks. After about an hour of walking, the trail started winding its way up the mountainside. Unlike yesterday’s emergency, there was no rush, and we could take greater care negotiating the path, although it wasn’t as dangerous as the cliffside trail. We paused at one of the open areas to gaze out over the valley. The sunlight was reflecting off ripples on the lake and a flock of cockatoos was noisily making its way to some feeding site. Everywhere else was virtually unbroken green with the bluish tinge that results from eucalyptus oil in the air. I felt very possessive of this beautiful country and I’m pleased to be able to contribute to maintaining it in its near pristine state.
We proceeded with our hike and it wasn’t long before we ha Continue reading
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This is not my story it was wrote by Bernard Doove
The sights and smells of the eucalyptus forest were always special to me. It was spring; the rain and sun had worked its usual magic on the plantlife. Everything was in full growth because it was too soon yet for the country to start drying out. Numerous small creeks could be heard making their way down to meet their larger brethren and the soil and compost beneath my paws was moist and smelled delightfully earthy and alive.
I was making my way along a barely discernible track that meandered between towering mountain ash and around stands of tree-ferns. No easy walking trail this; it also turned into a rock-climb in parts. It was infrequently used due to its length and difficulty, but I was in heaven. I loved this temperate bushland and I was always pleased to find an excuse to come out this way. I am a chakat, a feline taurform morph named Forestwalker. I had earned my adult name from my frequent excursions into the bushlands that so suited lifeforms such as me. My human friends tell me how much they enjoy the sights and sounds of the forest. How much more my far sharper senses could tell me. My nose alone could tell me more about what was happening around me than a human’s full range of senses. As I travelled the trail, I was exploring the area by sound and smell, as well as sight, and it was utterly delightful.
However, today’s trek wasn’t a mere bushwalk. Today, I had a goal. I was heading for a hut built in a clearing near a small lake deep in the national park. Some hiking enthusiast had built it many years ago, but as it was on public land, it was available to any weary hiker passing b Continue reading