I stayed in bed to watch the sunrise from the loft window we sleep beneath. It came up like thin gold and shone on me so bright and warm. I looked out and saw the river steaming and roiling, climbed down the ladder to the back door, shoved my feet in my boots and went walking in the crystals and newness of the day. Later, we went out for breakfast which is one of my favorite treats of all. Then we visited all the beautiful places. Before I knew it, the day was gone and night was settling and pooling black against the cliffs and we made pizza for dinner. Now we’re reading books, listening to music and sipping tea and wine. Winter was made for days like these.
December 1, 2015 by
November 17, 2014 by
And who will go forth and bear witness to the dimming of the day?
February 4, 2014 by
Dawn patrol with fresh powder, two buddies, and the willows full of chickadees? Yes, please.
On February First
February 2, 2014 by
This was, perhaps, one of the very best skis of my life…certainly the best ski of the year for me, and the best day of the year so far.
Details of note:
-a nearly five hour skijor with the dogs
-linking summits — Crystal Summit with Scout Mountain
-the bird songs!
-going high enough to where the sub-alpine fir begin to tower in fuzzy cones, and then beyond into areas with gnarled and twisted douglas fir, forever changed by lightning strikes
-running a tremendously steady two dog team, Farley was looking strong and energetic
-the only other human presence was the very distant hum of a snow machine I could hear for mere minutes
-we were craving adventure, something out of the ordinary, so we skied trails we didn’t even know existed, winding higher and higher into the wilds
-skiing in and out of isolated flurries
-the view from up top, oh, the view
-tree lines rising upwards in furry layers, to meet the sky
-the quietude
-reading animal tracks
-a sunset blazing through a squall
-a rusted fir
-that quiet, downhill corner where I could not shake the snow from my eyes