The air was cool, and a wind from the east was already picking up, making the aspens tremble, ruffling the mirror surface of the bay and blowing the mist away. Burl quickly went about cleaning up after the bear. The path to the shed was littered with garbage. The shed door had been clawed open; the inside was a mess. He emptied it completely and discovered a hammer head with a broken section of handle still in it. He could use it to make a plate to strengthen the door. Then, when there was time, he could carve a new handle. If he were to stay, there were many chores that needed attention. Something would have to be done about the garbage. Burnable things would have to be burned; cans would have to be washed clean of scent and squashed flat. Leftovers would have to be taken to some distant spot, preferably an island – he had seen islands from the clifftop – but, in any case, a long way from the cabin. Burl stopped working long enough to imagine hauling his old canoe up here somehow.
