I peered closely at one of the photos on my computer screen; none of its monochrome, infrared graininess could dim the beauty of the scene. At an earthen pool in a dell of winter-bare beech trees, a mother lynx and her cub flatten themselves against the ground to drink. Their pointed ears are distinctive in the gloom, like pinched candle wicks. The cub’s white, reflecting eyes are fastened onto its mother, watching closely for guidance and signs in this tremulous new world that it’s emerged into. It’s a tender snapshot of secretive forest lives lived largely out of range of human eyes. Despite
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