Leisurely Snowshoeing

Yesterday I strapped on a pair of snowshoes after a brief hiatus. The first thing I recognized: I wasn't skiing. The snaillike pace forced me to look around for my stimulation. Changes were happening fast in this isolated canyon: rocks were weeping, ice covered smooth boulders, strained-striped walls dripped like tar. The steep cliffs narrowed as I stomped through crusty, shaded snow. Birds (Juncos?) hopped in and out salt bushes or ventured up a towering Ponderosa tree. Sage scents wafted around me as the snow evaporated. Yep, time was not moving very fast snowshoeing. Now, if I was a snowflake...

Winter Safe Haven

Winter has settled in and I'm trying to stay put myself. I have groin muscles that are strained and I'm homebound. The dry crunchy snow beckons my X-country skis outward. This is the time for me to tour Escalante's mountains on fluffy powder. I could smell the crisp metalic air as I glide through the popcorn laden trees. Hear only the tweets from birds and try to identify animal tracks before I smash their tracks with my poles or skis. I would dress for the cold to get hot from the exercise. I miss playing in the snow. I must remind myself it's all temporary, all things must end. Just like my injury.

Desert of the Heart - Book Review

Karen Chamberlain's pretty prose describes the wild desert in simple and bold words. Her hiding place was discovered by many zany and worldly live-in visitors, adding invigorating life to this memoir. After reading Karen's reflections on winter's solitude ("hear the music at the heart of existence"), I now rejoice the cold quiet months in the desert. This short, sweet novel left me wanting more.