yesterday was an 80 degree day – possibly the last in a stretch of warm & sunny days for a while. i thought about taking atlas for a hike, but didn’t really feel up to hiking. (i lost my breath while in providence and it isn’t quite back yet.) besides, do you know what atlas likes to do on an 80 degree day? he likes to lie in the sun until he’s hot, then lie in the shade until he’s cool, then repeat repeat repeat.

instead of hiking, i took a pail of carrots and a vegetable peeler out to the picnic table. when i was finished, i sat on the ground in the sunshine.

i listened to the chirp of the birds & the hollow roar of the wind through the pines behind me. i watched brown leaves & white pollen & a black & yellow striped bumblebee fly past me. i scrunched my toes in the grass & felt the earth beneath my seat. i drank ice water with tiny flecks of dirt in it. i felt the wind in my hair & the sunshine on my face.

while i sat there, i thought about conversations i’ve had in which people tell me that they want to [insert something that involves doing very little] but they should make the most of the nice weather.

i decided that as far as i was concerned, i was absolutely positively making the most of the nice weather. i suspect atlas would agree.

it seems that lake superior is slowly shrugging off her thick winter coat.

someday, in the not too distant future, i will be swimming in this lake. in the meantime, i am enjoying all the colors & textures & layers.

people!

the arctic is melting! the arctic is melting! the arctic is melting!

i celebrated with a very long walk and a drink from every mud puddle. also, i peed on everything. (i had to reclaim my town-territory. the local dogs had probably forgotten all about me.)

wow, am i happy. and tired. it takes a while to stretch out my winter legs.

your friend, atlas

p.s. guess how i celebrated my walk? with a nap, of course!

“Everyone who terrifies you is 65% water.
And everyone you love is made of stardust,
and I know
sometimes
you cannot breathe deeply, and
the night sky is no home, and
that you are down to your last two percent,
but
nothing is infinite,
not even loss.
You are made of the sea and the stars, and
one day,
you are going to find yourself again.”

~ Finn Butler

this oak tree is in a neighbor’s front yard. i was walking down the road one day in autumn and the leaves caught my eye. in the afternoon light, they resembled spring blossoms. it looked like the tree had skipped right over winter and landed in spring.

(i so admire the hardiness of oak trees. they manage to keep many of their leaves through the icy gusts of winter and the brown leaves lend a tiny spot of color to the winter landscape.)

remember the snowshoe trail i discovered last winter?

the one that was just down the road?

it’s back again this winter and it is just as enchanting.

i have decided to call it narnia.

“I am here to seduce you into a love of life;
to help you become a little more poetic;
to help you die to the mundane and to the ordinary
so that the extraordinary explodes in your life.”

~ Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

“October’s poplars are flaming torches lighting the way to winter.”

~ Nova S. Bair

(i am currently loving this photo & this quote. since it is mid-winter here in the northern hemisphere, it seemed an opportune time to share.)

my nephew lars likes to do somersaults.

the first few times lars asked me to do a somersault, i tried – i really did – but then my head and feet were on the floor and my butt was in the air and i just didn’t have the nerve to lift my legs up and over. it seemed so far from here to there and i was afraid. after that, i said no whenever he asked me to do one. but i still wanted to do a somersault. i really did. (also, i wanted to not be afraid of them.)

finally, a few weeks ago – after my mom and my brother reminded me not to put my head on the floor – i crouched down and swayed back and forth a few times and then i flung myself forward and over. i rolled through the somersault and found myself sitting cross-legged on the floor – head and limbs intact, slightly dizzy.

i had done it! i had done a somersault! i was so delighted. now lars does a somersault and then i do a somersault and it is so much fun.

last weekend, i went cross-country skiing with my dad and my sister.

cross-country skiing is big here. there are a number of excellent trail systems in the area, including one less than a mile from my house. since i moved back, whenever anyone asked if i skied, or if i’d gone skiing, i’d explain that i didn’t ski because i didn’t enjoy it.

that story seemed true. it was formed during a cross-country ski outing when i was young that was pure drudgery.

if i paid close attention, i noticed that there was a tiny bit of excitement when i thought about trying it again – after all, i enjoy many things now that i disliked when i was young – but i ignored the excitement because i was locked into that old story.

until last weekend, when my dad and my sister decided to go cross-country skiing at night. night skiing sounded idyllic, so i decided to join them.

it was so. much. fun.

the black sky. the white snow on the dark green trees. the swish swish swish of my skis in the tracks. the welcoming glow of the lights on the trail. my shrieks as i sped down each hill. the whistle of the wind. my slightly numb fingers encased in a pair of gloves and a pair of mittens.

so. much. fun.

there is something important for me here.

i don’t know where it will lead, or why it is important, but i want to pay closer attention to what excites me, and follow the trail of that excitement.

do you do this already?

is it easy for you?

how are you at recognizing and following the trail of your excitement?

i woke up on tuesday to find myself living in the land of ice and snow. it was truly spectacular.

on thursday, the world was still frozen.

i took atlas and my camera for a walk that evening and nearly froze my fingers off.

on friday, the world was still frozen.

i took atlas and my camera for a hike around calumet lake that afternoon. the alternate thawing and freezing meant that the trail was pretty solid, no snowshoes required.

i will confess that i expected to see jon snow and some of his brothers on the night’s watch, or else the snow queen, around every single corner.

from now on, when i read game of thrones, this is how i will picture the wall, the lands north of the wall, and winterfell in winter.