Went out snowshoeing yesterday. It has been so busy and with all of the freezing rain in our part of the world, it was our first opportunity.
It is hard to describe what it feels like in the middle of the forest . . . the soft, muffled sweetness of fresh snow as it hangs heavy on the Spruce and Pine trees . . . the beauty of the ice-laden Poplars capped with an icing of snow . . . the crisp cool air as it caresses my face . . . the grounded feeling I get when I move and breathe and blend my being with nature . . . Me . . . I . . . myself . . we are all stripped away – no deadlines, no problems to solve, no pleasure or pain to value . . nothing to live up to or to live down . . . simply part of that never-ending cycle that brings so much peace to this quiet place.
My thoughts warm my heart and I am warm in all ways.
The sky was an exquisite blue . . . dazzling . . . icy and clean. Chickadees flitted through the trees, following me, it seemed . . . their muted chirps and little dark birdy eyes indescribably precious. The occasional rabbit crossed my path as I crossed the paths the deer had made through the snow. We have many, many deer in our small part of the forest. Elegant, beautiful aspects of creation . . .
As today dawned, heavy with the promise of another snowfall, I feel only anticipation . . . I sit here, content.
It is my wish that all of you feel a similar contentment. And that this next snowfall and any that falls on you where you sit . . . will simply fall . . . as it must and where it may . . with no power outages and no further discomfort visited upon you as you welcome in the new year.
Snow is softly falling as I write . . . there is no silence like it.