That night the rains came. We had been anticipating the howl of a wolf, but the rains completely drowned out everything. 

We are spending days huddled in a yurt, stepping out for now and then for random excursions:

splashing around rocky streams of cherry blossoms, a short dash to a waterfall, a team-building exercise to make a relief for Jack (Slate’s dog, who wasn’t allowed in the yurt because he was a sloppy mess), runs to the station for snacks.

Some of our members are also benefiting from the time to get their bodies right. They may have stayed in anyways. And we enjoyed a surplus of pears.

We also splurged and baked a wild boar (that had died of viral infection). Later, Mac was able to make a broth from the bones, and the rest of the sterilized meat was given to Jack.