FIELD LOG — “The Scent of Pine and Mystery”

Fog rolled through early this morning — thick and restless.At dawn, I heard what I thought was an elk’s call, but then it shifted — like a voice trying to shape a word.

Two hollow knocks echoed from the ridge. I responded, three times.

Silence.

When I returned later, a pinecone had been placed upright on my gear box.

Coincidence doesn’t survive long out here.