Spent the morning exploring some woods along Antietam Creek, looking for places where Indians might have camped. It was a perfect morning. I watched a hawk hunting groundhogs in a field, hovering and diving like a tern over the ocean. I startled eight or ten turkeys who flew up from their hiding place all around me. I met a herd of deer at close range, including a buck with the biggest antlers I have seen in years.
After stumbling up and down steep bluffs, blundering into a thicket of stinging nettles, and falling over a slick log, I finally found a lovely little terrace right next to the creek. I knew I was close to the park boundary, though, so I went searching for a sign or fence that would mark the boundary to make sure I wasn't on private property.
And I found this lovely old stone wall. God bless these old German farmers, I thought, with their rigorous ideas about order and property. No question about where this boundary line is.
All in all it was a wonderful morning, even though we didn't find anything.