Treacherous Beauty

 I decided to hike on the Messalonskee Stream Trail today. I don't often go there anymore, even though it's close. Jasper's absence is always most apparent when I'm hiking in the woods. His joy, his engagement, was always mine too. And even though I don't feel unsafe when I walk alone, I used to feel so safe when he was with me.

We've had a couple of light snowfalls in the past few days. It is so beautiful in these woods, and once up into the trail, the snow absorbs any sound so that the silence seems to have its own presence. Unfortunately, the snow came on top of a freeze-thaw-freeze cycle, which means that the light dry snow overlays solid ice flows, making walking treacherous. It is particularly dangerous in areas where the trail is no longer level. Even my beloved crampons can't overcome the slipperiness, because the snow prevents the crampons from digging in. So I didn't hike my usual 3 mile there-and-back, but stopped at the 2nd bridge, which is over a usually noisy stream. But it is silent now. It is completely iced over.

The snow lays heavier on the hemlock branches than I first thought. It's not heavy enough to break them, though that's always a concern.

I am finding this winter harder to bear than previous ones. . .this is our 5th winter in central Maine. The weight of international and domestic events, and the overwhelming mean and foolish behavior of our country is taking such a toll. I am tired and sad and frustrated. And for the first time, I am often cold. I love dressing for winter. . .I love handmade wool sweaters, socks, mittens and hats. So this feeling cold is new for me. Between the heat generated with hiking and being appropriately dressed, I rarely experience cold. But standing in protests with a sign for an hour or two leaves me chilled to the bone, metaphorically and physically.  

Sorry to be less than cheerful. I am wishing you all, at the very least, metaphorical warmth. 

And an admonishment to myself to live like a dog. In this very moment.

 

 

Moon Shadows

Winter has brought some exceptionally cold days. Single digits and icy walkways hardly beckon, but moon shadows do. On our nightly postprandial walks these tree shadows on the white snow are ethereal. I try to let myself sink into them. 

I am lucky enough to live in a world of beauty. Some of it I make (or try to), but much of it is all around us. It's just waiting for us to immerse ourselves, take a deep breath, and hold onto a moment, however briefly.

Like trying to catch the sight of a dappled forest in summer, the camera doesn't do a great job of capturing this image. The fact that it surrounds you may be part of that, but I think that the objective eye of the camera is just not up to the multiple sensory components our bodies take in. The deep breath (cold fresh air), the cold nose, the warm mittens, the crunch underfoot . . . the whole bit. 

And the quiet.