* Merry Christmas *

A particular comfort it is, sitting by the fire while the sun retires and night presses forth. At three in the afternoon, I sit by these glowing coals and stare at my furry fox friends who bare the temperatures with ease. Not a shiver or sign of chill have they shown despite being thirty below. Just the day before, out in what seemed the worst and minus twenty, I just needed to take advantage of the blue skies while they lasted. I am continually grooming the trails to the lower lake and only about half way through the woods. Constant defeat and agonizing labor to free the snow machine from holes it sinks into, getting stuck in powder and near cemented in, buried to the handles. I build ramps in front and dig away near the back to rock it free, and to my efforts, twenty feet further I find myself digging yet again. I do enjoy the mere fact of having something to do and although it is hard work, I can't shy away from it. After all, on the other side of these woods there is a village and a town with a grocery store should I choose to satisfy my most recent cravings.

Some days when the air is still, the trees covered in frost and not a noise is made in all the forest, I just sit watching and listening to absolutely nothing at all. On these especially cold days, there are many situations that can arise from nowhere and be quite surprising and consequential. Luckily I found out in time to spare a digit, but not without a stern warning. Frostbite. I understand why it is not called frost touch. Fortunately, I was done with chores outside and came in for the day, not realizing the condition of my fingers and it wasn't until the next day that I really knew the severity of the bite. Numb to the touch but throbbing inside. I have obtained just slight bite on the ears and fingers, and will be much more observant and tuned in to such pains from here on out.

My fox friend knew a good thing when he saw it and was reluctant to welcome another of his kind. What filled one mouth is now shared among two. Should a third venture this way, I may just cut them off cold turkey. I do have a soft spot for them. Curious, energetic and full of fight. They go at it and snarl, yelp and bark, attack each other, chasing and tackling and biting.... but they are both rewarded the same. I did manage a trout for the original one, the day before his companion showed up. Should they have had to fight for it, that would have been too much. They often sit outside my door in the day, come running in the waking hours of morning and come from who knows where in the night when closing the door. Each and every time I make a noise outside the cabin, they look with anticipation and often discontent when I close the door empty handed. Never failing, they are around in hopes of food.

How quickly the snow accumulates, two feet here and a foot there....  I do enjoy most things about a good hard snow fall and I can even enjoy the removal for a time, but those tiny snowflakes sure do become heavy and burdensome after too many hours. Who might have thought the soreness and aching in the muscles would be a result from the lightly falling crystals from above. Anyone who has held a shovel in hand would testify to their weight and not so innocent being. Yes they look harmless but that is simply not true. Another ten inches I woke to this very morning, and riding the trails again to maintain their existence and not make my previous labor in vain. When the wind whips across the snow fields, down from the mountain sides or across the lake, the trails in the open vanish in minutes. Constant packing and riding them will create a disruption to the aerodynamic flows, thus making faint distinctions between untouched powder traps and my trustworthy packed trail. When you spend as much time removing the snow as I do, you will understand the obsession with maintenance.

My frosty days are more frequent and the bitter cold more present as we near the beginning of official winter. Weeks pass like days and the only sign of time are tracks of myself and the animals around that tell the travels and business we have in this land. I judge a day by energy consumed and observe the quality by the amount of relaxation. Even work is relaxing in some instances. Bringing wood down for methodical stacking is quite cleansing to the mind and running the snow blower to push large amounts winter aside is pleasing to the body for the pain it defers. Even the tediousness of making kindling is pleasurable both for the honing of accuracy and for the product of the evening fire. I did miss one day and while perhaps too relaxed, I was slow to react. Nothing a bandage would not fix. All of these little wounds, misfortunes of falling in the river and slipping on ice add to the story of life up in the more wild parts of America.  I am careful, but even when crossing the t's and dotting i's, one can forget a period or two. I like to live my days with an exclamation mark.


Christmas is only one week away and soon January will be here. I know at the end of that month will be half way through and much to my amazement, I don't know where those days have gone. I have lived each one, some more painful than others but I do wonder how this has gone by so quickly. I do believe that the whole month of October was an adjustment time, not knowing just how to prepare mentally for the upcoming months. November was settling in nicely and was over before it began really and now December is snow and soon Christmas. Maybe the new year will bring new feelings of time and it will seem more drawn out. As the months are now, I agonize over the loss of each moment that mimics and resembles the next. Losing those moments and subsequently time from a lack of differentiating between the two. Likewise for days and weeks, painfully savoring but a memory from what could have held a dozen. It is safe to say each day that presents a new task or chore or irregularity is often welcomed, cherished to some degree and is the only variety or spice in my life. Those little things that switch up routine make all the difference in my world.

Christmas for everyone down south, I wish you all a very merry season with each other, a great time to be among those you care for and celebrate in true form the reason for this holiday. For all who endure the lines, in grocery stores and gas stations, I hope there is plenty of patience and tranquility to go around. I will celebrate with a nice dinner for myself and prepare something tasty for my fox friends. I think of you all often,

Questions

 

 

 

 

The meaning of adventure to one person can be vastly different to another. I have heard it said, adventure is when things go wrong but until then, it is your plan.
Here in the twenty first century, I live close to a hundred years ago. Limited energy sources, no running water and I'm dependent on the respect given to nature. If you love something, you take care of it. I do love nature, but the idea of nature is something we have created. People for centuries lived in desolate places on earth, remote, self sustaining, and it wasn't that long ago when people were living as I presently find myself. That was their life. Nature to them was the unknown, the great Louisiana territory of the 1800's, the America's in the late 1400's. In today's world, people have closed themselves off to their roots in the earth's soil, they trade simplicity for complexity. Many people haven't the slightest ideas on how to provide for themselves, or steward the resources of their land which can provide. Concrete prisons are created in high rise fashion surrounded by thousands of others who think nature is walking in the park and sitting on the lawn for a picnic. That was a luxury for most back then, not nature today.
People couldn't conceive preserving wild forest lands and "nature", their very lives were lived there and so what exactly were they to preserve? Life?

The northern lands of this world must be relatively the same, differing in mountain ranges and water systems, but equally beautiful as to where I sit. One could say I was in Norway or Sweden, Newfoundland or Alaska, and I wouldn't know it. There are no mapped out boundary lines or degrees of latitude that define the earth's beauty. When you are on an adventure, a life altering experience, questions arise that wouldn't have come any other way. Questions you didn't even know you had, and some that you didn't know existed. Often there are more questions than answers, but when an answer hits you, it's that light bulb moment. Everything of concern is erased, all the random wheels stop turning. There is often an empty feeling, as if the only thing in your mind was the question and now the answer. It is overwhelming. Why must they be so personal though? Often the epiphany isn't understood, shared or conceived by others, and it isn't like you have just solved one of the world's dilemma's but instead there is only personal growth in that understanding.
I believe when someone has their heart set on something, change only comes within. The outward appearance can vary in direction, manipulate the minds of others and be a great deception but what lies within oneself, is the only true north. To that, they will live and breathe for. If you love something you take care of it.
So the passion that drives someone, the loves they have and the desire to care for them, is that not what we are to pursue? Who makes the call on what is a worthy passion and love and to whom does it belong? Are we of the mindset "individualism" in life or is there a relationship to community? To each their own? Probably not.
What might the world become if everyone examined and explored themselves through solitude, or is that idea flawed as well?

The winds are relentlessly testing the structural integrity of my cabin, and the trust I have in the builder is with my life.  I try to sleep through the great howling noise and violent shaking of the supposed solid walls. Each morning I awake one more time, not knowing how close I came to a tree coming down on the roof or if the cabin was lifted from the foundation. That is probably a good stretch to say, however there is much unknown when I sleep so long.
I received a call about weather rolling in. A warning as it were, the recommendation to be prepared for a severe weather front. The only good thing about the change is the warmth. Going from fifteen below to twenty above is most welcome and even if snow accumulates to feet, I'll have fun with it.

The ice picture above was just amazing to see. Cracks on the frozen lake bend and twist to create these colorful patterns and mesmerizing images, if you stare at them too long.
Should I be lucky enough for new snow, two feet or more, I'll be out grooming trails and shoveling to no end. I do miss the sights of a proper winter and blustering, snowy days. The warmth of my cabin and the window I stare out of is all the comfort I need but there isn't any sense in settling there, so warm cookies and tea lighten the mood even more. I wish I could give thirty minutes to every soul that wanted it this very moment.

With Christmas around the corner, time does fly by when you're having fun. Hard times do present themselves, challenging and perplexing as they can be, putting your left foot in front of the right usually overcomes any obstacle. I took my boat out of the river for the time being. There was too much effort in the upkeep, so it sits on land waiting for better conditions.

Fishing, oh that wonderful and frustrating past time. I continue to bring in the large rainbows but unfortunately I am wanting char to feed the fox. Not a hint of complaint in there, only fact.