Always remember the pact that we madeToo young to die but old is the grave

Out our backyard, there are thousands of acres of open land. Mountains loom five to ten miles behind.

From the bar in my kitchen, I see the dying sun kiss the yellow and green fields outside.

The round hay bales sit, evenly spaced.

Six or seven deer graze.

The snow-capped peaks are pink-orange. The skies above are gunmetal gray-blue, with matching pink-orange clouds.

Below the tree line, I imagine all the animals preparing for winter, whilst looking over shoulders for the next link in the food chain.

Sqiurrels are gathering nuts. Marmots are improving their dens. Ermine begin to turn white. Deer and elk are preparing to run the gauntlet.

Having mated, they need to get to lower elevation, past the hunters who lay in wait over the next month or so.

The girzzlies have about another six weeks, depending on weather, before they dig out a den and hunker down for five months. Right now, they are in "hyperphagia," which basically means "gorging." They consume enormous amounts of calories during this time, then their systems slow down. Their heartbeat and metabolism slows to a fraction of normal. They don't eat, drink, defecate or urinate. Everything just kind of gets paused.

It's cold in the mornings.

The sun shines in the afternoon and everything warms up.

The sun goes down, in a blaze of color, sparking the imagination.

And all is dark and cold again, until the coffee starts to gurgle and we do it all over again.