Saturday morning stretches into late afternoon with woodpeckers flitting from one bare tree to another. They're hammering echoes across still waters while sounding their presence. Fallen trees become balance beams for my feet to maneuver like a gymnast as I make way along the water's edge. My eyes squint against the sun to find two red tailed hawks screeching above my head. They're circling February's blue sky. After watching the hawks fly away I continue walking. Alongside the green-brown waters snatching briars vie for my attention temporarily holding me in their tiny fingers. Gently, I release myself from their hold.