Sunshine. Warmth. The cabin heat is off. The last snow melted Wednesday, May 21st. Rain washed it away.
Everything is behind. I am playing catch-up. There are three small tomatoes on one plant. Houseguests up for a few days. Fishing. Beach. 4th of July already! Hummingbirds visiting often, even the petunias in the window boxes.
So many stones, so little Time, Lake Superior Rocks, Lake Superior sunrises and sunsets. Lilacs late blooming, June 21. Solstice came and went with me to a new beach – Vermillion, over near Paradise.
Thirsty Dance was RAIN and I was sick all week and missed it all except the feast to break the fast. It was good to see family again. Spirit warmth.
Saw Mother Fox again last week, with kits. Last night saw, almost hit, a fox kit alone on the road, late. Flickers abound. Dragonflies abundant.
Collecting pine cones, polishing stones, making things, writing…. all good.
Time to mow.
It was a very long winter, 2007-2008. “They” say over 280 inches of snow fell in Grand Marais. Twenty miles west of me, it is the nearest measurement I have heard. It was a lot of plow time on this long drive to my home in da woods.
I started this blog with high hopes and good intentions for writing. Now I know what is meant by “cabin fever.” This first entire winter of living alone in the woods was difficult, long and lonely. The computer and telephone kept me sane, along with the company of faithful Panda.
Sane? What exactly is sane, anyway? Living alone in da woods? Is that sane? Rising every morning to more fresh snow… is that sanity?
It was a very long winter, yes, and incredibly beautiful. Every day was a new adventure, a new challenge. More snow than the tractor and I could handle… like when the hydraulic hose blew on the front loader, and I repaired it myself. Or when I drove my truck into an invisible snow drift on the road to Lake Superior and freed myself with no shovel, too lazy to walk the mile for help.
An interesting winter, pushing snow, fearing being snowed in, following critter tracks and wondering who the visitors were and when they came and went. Pictures, hundreds of photos of snow, blowing, falling, drifting, building high banks of white fluff or stacking white blocks of it.
Writing, in notebooks, not here.