A few weeks ago we braved the
deep snowfall from the night before,
and ventured
into South Amherst, to check out the conservation path in the forest there.
Somehow, there are people who snowshoe there, who kindly enough made this neat
small packed down path, far up the trail.
So
off we went, past the sparkling amber stream. Up the neat perfect path, past
trees strewn with snow about their trunks. Past limbs coated with snowfall
hanging in rounded mounds up in the cold cold air.
Past golden Beech leaves lingering in the winter days. The fresh air a
respite from heated rooms in homes. All that oxygen and the beneficial microbes
thickening the areas around Pine and Fir.
Up
he raced ahead of me, then back, in fun and challenge, as I scooped up handfuls
of loose snow, lobbing them far up for him to anticipate with excitement, and
then leap as they came tumbling down toward him.
Silent. No tracks at all; snow too deep.
Save the gurgling of the brook, invisible beneath the snows, then
spiraling out and down the hill.
Really, all we ever need, to be at peace.
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