Four dirt roads converge a quarter mile up the hill from my house. In August the dust gets so dry at the crossroads that I can see every track. Raccoon, turkey, my daughter’s Vans, the neighbor’s dog. I’m fascinated with cougar tracks. They’re like car accidents—I can’t look away. See that telltale pawprint and a shiver runs through me. I scan the woods. It’s both delicious and terrifying that there are killers out here, and their tracks cover my size nines. I don’t want to die as prey, but I do want to live this way. I keep walking.
Alexa Savard is a serial entrepreneur who writes in the time between running a tea company and mothering two kids. She lives in Washington state. Instagram: @alexawsavard