Winter at the Cabin

I have a confession to make.  Some of you may not like it, either.

Here it is: I like winter.

I love how snow stacks atop fenceposts creating tophats made of pure cotton.  I like how the whole landscape becomes whitewashed, how the sky color-shifts so blue you want to poke it to see if it’s real.  I like seeing small creeks grow scales of ice before they burrow themselves underneath crescent drifts of snow.  I love how sounds are hushed.  I enjoy seeing the crisscross tracks of animals where they have come and gone.

Sure, I tire of the cold.  I would like a month less of winter.  But I love it just the same.

Yesterday, I drove to the cabin where winter has arrived in full.  I had to drop my truck into four-wheel drive and then kick and buck my way in from the main road.

Once there, I took the opportunity to burn a chest-high tangle of branches I stacked in the meadow after knocking down a couple snags this summer.

A chickadee flew in and perched in a nearby tree and watched for a while.

Fire, sky, snow, and occasionally a bird.

These are elements in the winter.

-- Mitchell Hegman