Almost gave up but...

For several days I've been hearing the familiar snuffling and grunting sounds out in the woodlot, and a glance at the calendar confirmed that it was getting to be time. I watched carefully, even hunted for the evidence but found little or nothing. Then tonight, in the post-sunset duskiness of a snowcovered pasture, I found the tell-tale tracks. It was too dark for a photograph, but there is no mistaking that shuffling, hunching gait.



It was the footprints of the elusive snark, seen in our area only around the last week of January.