DON’T WISH AWAY TIME - LOOK OUT AT THIS VISTA AND MARVEL........

IT’S A CANADIAN WINTER AND LOOKING A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS

When my father suffered a stroke last December, passing away in mid-January of complications, I don’t know what I would have done without the ease and solitude of this forest sanctuary across from Birch Hollow. Day or night, by sun or moonlight, deeply covered in snow or lightly dusted, being on this winding, albeit short path, was both tranquil and inspirational. Even on the coldest night, I could hear the tiny cataracts frothing at a myriad of locations across this frozen bogland. It was to me, the reality that life goes on, as the flow of water from the earth to the basins, and onto the lakes and oceans of the world. There is no stopping change in life, and it was over the course of three months or so that the mourning ceased, and trust in the cycle of existence carried on......just as the seasons and this trickle of water beneath the thin crystal of ice that has formed over-night.

I can sit at a keyboard for hours on end, pounding out copy for one project or another, and feel confident at the conclusion that my head will explode at any moment. It’s at this point, the oldtimer “me” leashes our dog Bosko, for a trip into these light and shadow-contrasted, snowy, restorative December woods. Each month has a different patina, just as the seasons, but not as profoundly imprinted. The changes are more subtle and possibly literary because it’s what this writer notices moreso, than say the other twenty or thirty folks who tramp down this path each day for an outing. There’s a Christmas glow about the landscape now, a peace and solitude that I know is implanted by the voyeur. It wasn’t appointed this way by nature to appease the Martha Stewarts out there, looking for a beautiful, sentimental scene. None the less, there is a poetic reality here, and one must be forgiven for being reminiscent and thoughtful about Christmases past. It’s quite natural to feel this way if you adore this celebrated season of peace and good will.

I must soon trundle back home for the good graces of a fire in the hearth. But this respite has served me well again, and I have so much more to write about.