|

24 November~2007

The first thing today was to head up to the mountains, shoulder my pack, and climb a forested slope. Snow was still on the trees and at times the clouds closed in and flurries came down. The unforgettable scent of winter cold and fresh snow was in the air.

Nothing was melting, and the temperature would remain below freezing all day. Tracks of deer and fox crossed our way up the slope. The dogs got animated when they picked up their fresh scent on the snow.

A walk like that first thing in the morning if always my first priority on days I don't work. That the only tracks in the snow were wild animals told me that I was one of few who had that sort of thing in their mind on the day after Thanksgiving. That was fine with me though. I don't worry about whether others share my interest and values - being authentic means following your own heart, finding your own joy.

Native Americans say all things have a spirit, and if we go out enough, and allow ourselves to be still and open, we may get a sense of what is normally beyond our understanding.

Before my trail circled back to the truck it felt like a door to a sacred cathedral of blessed white had been left open for us three to wander through.

(to see a 700 pixel wide image of the above collage, click here; to see a 1400 wide pixel image of the above picture, click here.)