backwoods pathos

Five hundred kilometers north east of Vancouver and we are in a river valley of very few inhabitants...
Land was cheap and one could bird call hundreds of acres a kingdom of one's own for a sing along song...
As we explored one such lyrical kingdom, we stumbled upon a wooded meadow tombstoned with dozens of dead cars - a verdant graveyard of long abandoned machines - as incongruous a setting as a rose garden in a parking garage....

not only decomposing car-davers, but a canoe corpse...

and even a fossilizing snowmobile...

and more implanted rusting hulks...

before almost stepping on fresh scatological evidence of a greater, and much furrier, presence in these deep dark woods...