The eight year old boy races up and down the well-worn trail of the park trying to envelope himself into the surroundings.
“I’m a woodsman!” He joyfully squeals to his parents before tearing off again.
The young teen ager carefully looks at himself in the mirror, inspecting how the plaid flannel shirt fits with the basic blue jeans and hiking boots.
Satisfied, he proclaims, “I am a woodsman.”
The middle aged man carefully opens the trap and sets the raccoon free. Throwing the trap in the bed of the truck, he pulls some leaves off a nearby camphor tree and crushes them in his hands. The oils from the leaves both clean and erase and accidental scent transfer. Climbing into the truck he glances back to his grandfather’s old axe that he refurbished sitting next to his chainsaw and other tools. Tilting back his wide brimmed hat, his eyes widen with a dawning realization.
“I’m a woodsman.” He says with a chuckle.
My second entry for the Trifecta Challenge.