Warm-up for a Spring Bacchanalia
It is almost inconceivable that it was warm enough to toss a frisbee only a couple weeks ago.
Late the next afternoon, everyone leaves... and winter steals back again.
Dressing for a wind chill of thirty-four below zero Fahrenheit, I scavenge the house for outdoor wear. The first seven gloves I find are all right-handed.
Not looking hopeful. But then I find the Carhartts!
The road crew does not like to plow my icy, winding road and it remains a barely visible path through the deep woods. The mail lady did not come again today. No one has lived in that old farmhouse below for a hundred years. Phone reception is infrequent. My Netflix DVD did not come.
It is very, very quiet in my world again. When the sun slips behind the mountain and darkness descends, I crawl under the warm wool blankets on my sleigh bed to hibernate.