Solitude

I opened my eyes when I heard the wind dying down outside the tent. It was getting close to sunrise and the wind was taking it's only break for the last couple of days. I put my clothes on and didn't bother with a fire, I walked outside to stretch out and look around camp. The snow was lit up extremely white in contrast to the darkness of the timber on the surrounding mountains. The starry sky illuminated everything enough to walk without a lantern. I took a minute this morning to enjoy the vast constellations while I took a badly needed piss.
This was the first day I hadn't had dudes around me for quite some time, and I was gonna enjoy it.
I went back into the tent and lit the small single burner that sat next to the wood stove. The small blue flames cast little light inside the tent, adding little to the glow of the stars. I covered it with the black and blue coffee pot, and headed to the corral. Today I would check my traps in solitude, waiting for the next bunch of hunters to arrive. It would be the same attitudes the first day. Lots of energy, lots of questions, all of it familiar.
I thought about my brothers for a minute while I walked through the snow to catch my horse. I wondered how differently their days were starting where they were, a thousand miles away. It was hard to imagine anything but my reality. Sheriff played no games this morning, and silently we had a moment of understanding. I led him over by the tent and tied him down to the rail.
My coffee was boiling when I finished brushing Sheriff and returned to the tent. It still wouldn't be light for an hour at least so I wasn't in much of a hurry. I squatted to my heels and enjoyed the first hot sip of the coffee. The steam rising from my cup opened my nostrils and perked my eyes to the cold air. I sat completely still and took the moment in.
I had a boiled egg left in my pommel bag for breakfast, which seemed to be just like every other one I had ever eaten. My coffee cooled enough to drink in big gulps and it was much enjoyed that way. I finished my breakfast and went to saddle my horse.
This morning was a welcome break from the routine I had acquired out here. I only had to take care of myself, and I welcomed the simplicity. No standing inside the cook tent sipping coffee, waiting for breakfast while the dudes told jokes and chattered about their experience. No waiting to use the latrine. No questions. No orders.
It was somewhat warm this morning and Sheriff stood comfortably at the rail as I laid the blanket over his whithers. I slid my rig over his back and cinched it down. He shifted his weight after I had buckled the breast collar and both cinches were drawn snug. He was ready to go.
I returned to the tent and grabbed my riffle, checked the valve on the propane, and made sure things were in order.
I slid my riffle into the scabbard, and swung up into the saddle. With a squeeze of my heels we headed up the creek and out of camp in the darkness. I thought about the sets I had to check, and what might be in them today.