Winter Adventure

One evening before dinner the boy and I took a walk around the block.

Here is what we saw:

Then I turned the flash on:

Something that I remember from childhood is that these small outings are way more valuable to kids than adults probably realize. It did my heart good to watch the boy prance around in the snow while we took that leisurely walk, with no agendas or deadlines pressing down on us.

The world is still big enough to him that walking around the block really is an adventure. To think otherwise is the accompanying curse that comes with ownership of an adult mind.

Afterward we warmed up and had hot cocoa:

Our American selves

I doodled this on 04/07/07 and wrote the following: "Planning my outdoor excursions feels not unlike a bank robber, meditating on his next heist. I am putting together the gear and the expertise and anticipating the right moment to pull off my next caper. Truth be told, aside from a canoe I really have all the gear that I need. My planned purchases are primarily creature comforts. To make life more convenient in some cases, and more fun in others. On this spring day the nip of winter is still in the air, to serve as a reminder that into our lives a little snow must fall. But the trees are biding their time like petulant teenagers, waiting for their drivers licenses. Their buds are like a billion little pimples, all of which will erupt in one giant pubescent explosion in about two more weeks. That's when every living thing under the sun (& under the waves) will become obsessed with reproduction, not unlike our American selves. When it comes to birds, fish, wolves and deer, I confess to being a romantic. I want to see the guy get the girl."

It was inspired by the artwork found in my copy of Reflections from the North Country.

Wish I were there

A great photo as seen on the Sawbill Newsletter:

The Sawbill Trail seen from the inside of a moving vehicle

According to the weather forecasts we are supposed to get about 3-5 inches of snow tomorrow. Since it won't be all that cold I am optimistic that it will be that cool kind of snow that sticks to tree branches and looks something like the picture above.

Now to just plan my getaway...

All the difference

A fresh blanket of snow today. Just a smidge; an inch, no more. still, enough to foul up traffic. It hasn't really melted yet so today the world is a silver lining to a sky full of clouds.

I think that the most picturesque snowscapes that I have seen have all been up around the north shore. I remember a grouse hunting trip with my friends on an old logging road a few miles west of Isabella, at the tail end of a lake effect snowstorm. About 6 inches of the stuff had come down. It started wet and as it slowly turned cold the snow began clinging to the trees, powerlines and virtually everything that it touched. It looked as if God had cast the likeness of the world in silver and given my friends and me free run of it. We began walking down a promising trail that quickly forked. According to our maps it rejoined, so we parted ways. My friends and the dog continued to the south and I went alone to the southeast.

The sky was clearing as we did this, and as I walked alone I looked up at the trees that towered above me. It was if I had wandered into the world's largest cathedrel, for in every direction that I looked I saw a more breathtaking stained glass window than the last, filled with the blue of the sky, the dark green of Norway pines and the golden glow of sunshine, framed behind the snow-covered branches. This was no man-made temple yet I worshipped there all the same, silently thanking God for the scene around me. Beauty of this kind is no accident.

As I slowly walked along the sun began to gradually warm the branches above me, starting a secondary snowfall in the woods as the trees began to groggily shake off the sediment. Chickadees and red squirrels were on the move now, quickly getting back to the daily business of winter foraging.

As the two roads slowly rejoined the dog came to greet me. A few more steps around the bend and I was reunited with my comrades. As we plodded back to the truck I wondered to myself what their experience had been like. I had no doubt that they had seen the same sunlight, blue sky, evergreens and snow-covered branches, but I wondered if they had really seen these things as I had.

As we pulled away to find another trail I thanked God again, this time for a safe hunt and for good friends with whom to share the beauty of the woods. We'd shared an experience, even if we had walked down seperate paths. I will always treasure the memory of taking the road less travelled that frosty late autumn morning.