Learning to listen

J. Don Fulton

The summer I was twelve, my parents took all the family north to a remote lake in the Canadian woods. To me, there was nothing more fun than going for a tramp in the woods with my dad while on a fishing trip or camping out.

But this day, after lunch, without telling anyone, I decided to go for a walk alone into the dense brush. And what a walk it turned out to be! I tried to walk slowly and carefully, and I saw a fawn, a beaver pond and beavers, eight partridges, and a snowy owl that landed so close to me that I could count his tail feathers.

I was so excited seeing all this wildlife that I really wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Then, suddenly, I realized the day had become cloudy, it was getting late, and I had no idea where the lake and home were. I was lost.

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