Considering how much of the country is getting a major blast of winter at the moment, you’d probably prefer to see a photo of a nice, warm beach somewhere. Sorry. I don’t have any of those. I had an ice storm, just me and who knows how many other million people in the U.S.
After the ice, I had a bit of snow, then the temperature then dropped to 5F degrees, with a 40 mph wind. Suffice it to say that the dogs didn’t get much of a walk this morning. They didn’t seem to want one either, for which I am glad.
For me, in the cabin, weather extremes always seem more extreme or perhaps simply more immediate. When I get to work, everything there seems so normal and distanced from what’s going on up on the mountain. That’s always a bit of a shock to me.
Last night, the wind roared, the trees creaked, a few branches landed on the cabin’s roof or in my driveway. When I had to leave the cabin, I did so as quickly as possible, bolting out the doors so I didn’t let out any of my precious warmth. I worried about the pipes freezing—there’s something about a southwest wind hitting the corner of the cabin that sometimes causes me problems.
The cabin is warm, but sometimes I feel my hold on comfort is a fragile one, one that requires a lot of vigilance. I don’t mind that. In fact, I’m used to it, but there’s no doubt that living in the woods requires more from me during weather extremes than most people have to think about.
Staying connected to the natural world isn’t always all beauty and glory. It’s a bit about taking what comes and dealing with that. From my point of view, ignoring the reality of what’s going on in the natural world by never venturing out of our comfort lessens our ability to see life as it really is. To me life is too precious not to see as much of it as I can.