January 14, 2005

"That's a record, isn't it," asks Paul. I haven't been off the mountaintop in more than eight days. He seems to think this is an unusual event in my life, my being more prone to needing outside stimulation that he. I've had a good excuse, that being that I have been sick and have needed not to be in the cold or the weather until my lungs could again become clear.

Today I broke that eight day record, kind of. I decided the sun was shining and I'd had enough of this inside life. I put on my down jacket, the necessary hat and gloves and deep snow boots to see what the surface of the earth was like post another rain storm and then cold freezing temperatures.

I'd walk off what I had if it killed me was the attitude once I started stepping onto the dense pock marked snow and began to make my way to the orchard. I had my camera and soon I was not walking. Instead I was taking pictures of a lone beech tree whose leaves fluttered in the light wind and whose golden color always amazes me. It is the only tree which retains its leaves other than the evergreens. Flaxen, they reflect the sun and make noise even when there is little else to disturb the peace and quiet up here on the top of this small hill.

Soon this will be over I think as I walk happily between orchard and house. Soon I will be able to drive whenever and wherever I want to, see people, work in the garden, swim in the lake and not have to wear my extra skin.

Still this time of year is one I usually savor when I get the chance for its quiet and its lack of activity. It's a good time to work, this quiet peaceful time of year, a chance to slow to a tortoise pace even if that means breaking records from time to time.