- Joined
- Jan 7, 2003
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- 1,131
The man had walked through the forest with his son in search of blueberrys. They had been walking a lot that day and the six yers old boy started to get a little tired. They were closeby to a place called the trolls hole. A small tarn upon a flat highland in the mountain. They had a bucket of berrys with them an were on their way back home. It was an exiting day for the boy together with the father. He was proud over the bucket with berrys and wanted to give it to his mother. Bouth he and the father was intriged by the fact that they just a kilometer before had seen an anthill dug up by a bear, not more than a couple of days before. The man had explained for his som how to estimate the time, locking at signs of rain in the dug up material and thinking about when it came rain. They had also poked in some shit to see how dryed up it was. The son was as eger to learn an made questions about the situation.
As they sat on the shore of the little tarn he talked about bears and if they were dangerous. Then he asked his father if he could use his knife for wittling. The boy carried his own little sheatknife but it was obvious he rather wanted to borrow his fathers knife. The man reached to his pocket for his stockman. This was an unusual knife, but the man had a great interest for knifes and when he turned 40 years old he bought this knife and waited two mounths for it to arrive all the way from US. He opened the mainblade for the son reminding him to keep in watch so he didnt turn it around making it fold on his little hand.
As the son wittled he kept an eye, but also lost himself in a memory from his youth. He and his younger brother was sitting on the very same shore 25 year ago. They had a lucky day and carried a capercailzie together with their .22 rifle. Their spits had made a great barking on the tree where it sat.
This was a sweet memory and man felt a little sad over the lost times but also felt joy over the times to come represented by the wittling son beside him.
As they rested for another while the boy wanted to start the walk home to show his mother the berries and tell his younger brother about the bear and also show the smaller boy his knowledge about how to analyze shit on the ground.
Bosse
As they sat on the shore of the little tarn he talked about bears and if they were dangerous. Then he asked his father if he could use his knife for wittling. The boy carried his own little sheatknife but it was obvious he rather wanted to borrow his fathers knife. The man reached to his pocket for his stockman. This was an unusual knife, but the man had a great interest for knifes and when he turned 40 years old he bought this knife and waited two mounths for it to arrive all the way from US. He opened the mainblade for the son reminding him to keep in watch so he didnt turn it around making it fold on his little hand.
As the son wittled he kept an eye, but also lost himself in a memory from his youth. He and his younger brother was sitting on the very same shore 25 year ago. They had a lucky day and carried a capercailzie together with their .22 rifle. Their spits had made a great barking on the tree where it sat.
This was a sweet memory and man felt a little sad over the lost times but also felt joy over the times to come represented by the wittling son beside him.
As they rested for another while the boy wanted to start the walk home to show his mother the berries and tell his younger brother about the bear and also show the smaller boy his knowledge about how to analyze shit on the ground.
Bosse
