Quotes by St. Teresa of Avila

Image by Westeros638 from Pixabay

“It is love alone that gives worth to all things.”

― St. Teresa of Avila


“Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
no hands but yours,
no feet but yours,
Yours are the eyes through which to look out
Yours are the feet with which he is to go about
doing good…
Yours are the hands with which he is to bless…now.”

― St. Teresa of Avila

The Yukon #4 – A Short Story

Canoe on the Yukon River – Image by Tobias Klenze from wikimedia CC BY SA 4.0

Two paths lay in front of him. Paul was about to choose one of them. Each offered danger from its bitter chalice.

One path led to his Winter rest stop cabin. A frequent trail for Brown bears, muskox and moose.

The other led to his emergency canoe, hidden on the edge of his property. The location offered no cover. It lay in view of the Yukon’s waterway traffic. The canoe was a back-up to his cuddy cabin boat. It was no secret to his friends that his cuddy cabin, the Double-Oh, was Paul’s pride and joy.

He had made his decision. He chose the path to his Winter cabin. It was closer and represented food and shelter – two things he could use, under the circumstances. He had nothing since dinner last evening, save for a sip of coffee, three hours ago. Plus, a decades-old injury to his left lung, on occasion, affected his breathing.

It was around noon, sunlight bathed the Yukon Summer. No sooner had he turned into the path he chose, he noticed large deposits of Brown Bear droppings. He was alert but he trusted his hearing. He heard nothing unusual.

As he rounded the bend in the path, in an instant, he was within two meters of a mother bear on one side of the path and her two cubs playing on the other side.

He froze. His heart pumping; his mind racing, planning his next move.

The Brown Bear mother raised her head, took in his scent and stared at him. The cubs stopped playing and hid, quietly.

Paul waved his arms aloft while shouting loudly. He held his ground and hoped that his actions were a sufficient deterrent. The mother bear bolted away from him; her cubs sprinting closely behind.

He slumped to his feet, his breathing echoing in his chest. He rummaged through his back pack for his bear spray. He had failed to pack it.

His run-in with the bear had distracted his plan to carefully scout the area before proceeding.

As Paul stood up; he swung his backpack back over his shoulder. Then he noticed the change in color of the grass in his path.

By then it was too late.

Too late, to correct his misstep into a quicksand bog.

It was his left foot that was stuck. Paul knew from experience that pulling his foot to try to free himself would be unwise.

His mind racing. He formulated a plan.

He figured: if he could lay his body flat on the bog’s surface, thereby distributing his weight over a wider area, it might be easier to lift his left foot. Then, he would belly crawl, commando-style on the bog’s surface, to safety.

It worked.

He crawled slowly across the short perilous distance. His training days in the service, executing a similar maneuver, a warm nostalgic spark, spurring him on. When he was clear, he rolled over onto solid ground, relieved and, gasping for air. His clothes, laden with grassy mud.

He retraced his steps to the original fork in the path. Wet, tired and hungry but with new purpose; he took the path not taken earlier. He would head towards his canoe.

That was his second mistake.

As he hiked the portage trail towards his canoe; he had time to think. His concern turned to the future of his mission.

For, Commander Paul Concolor (Puma) was not in hiding. He was on an official mission, guarding an item. The item was hidden on his property.

His ruse of leaving the Department twenty years ago, was just that. He had accepted a secret, long term assignment, a protection detail.

When he saw that note on the package back at his verandah, his concern was not only for his life. It was also fear that the item’s location had been compromised, endangering many thousand lives.

Recent events suggest that something had changed, drastically. He had to discover the truth and quickly.


Meanwhile, at the still smoldering rubble that was once Paul’s cabin, his friend, bush pilot and retired Sergeant Wayne Angraken, aka “Eagle,” noticed something unusual – Paul’s boat, the Double-Oh was missing.


**** Final Segment Coming Next Week****

Note: This is a fictional tale.

If you would like to read earlier sections to this tale – links below:

The Yukon #1 – A Short Story

The Yukon#2 – A Short Story

The Yukon#3 – A Short Story

Nuptial Cords – A Poem

Image credit: lovethispic

Humanity and forest – two become one;

Trees with nuptial cords pledge

Their internal tree rings,

Exchanging their bark with us

As tokens of promise.

Since we cannot walk

Its entire circumference,

The forests hike the Earth for us,

Nurturing those formed of the soil,

Under nature’s protective canopy.


Written for Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Canopy – April 1, 2021


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