The setting for our walk this morning came complete with mood setting mist and the intermittent caws of a murder of crows. Very film noir, so Jack and I pretended we were on the run from the mob and that we had to find a cache left somewhere in the forest for us. We searched high and low with our eyes and our noses and I’m almost certain I heard the crack of a pistol and the swell of violins, but alas! we could not find the cache. My trusted familiar, Jackson Brown, proved his worth yet again, though, leading us safely to the motorcar left for our conveyance to safety.