March 2023 — It is March 15 and this mild winter still has a firm grip on the north. It’s certainly March and we are seeing more sun and the days are longer, but the lakes and land and beach are still frozen. And over these last days, even with lots of sun, snow dominates the landscape. Hardpack drifts stretch from the hills into the fields, and the gentle snowfall that fell in a sunny glow over the last few days has left even the barest spots dusted with white.
Hawthorn and I skied the deep hardpack most hidden from the sun on Monday night. On top of this crust was several inches of powder which made for effortless skiing. We roamed the back edges of giant fields and zigzagged around junipers and white birch. We crossed two roads and skied by abandoned camps and Bohemian farms. Some smooth S turns took us downhill to the truck and home.
I woke up early, early on Wednesday morning. The red moon was over Little Traverse Lake and it left a wide reflection on the water that stopped at the ice. I went outside to take a photo and noticed the stars, the silence, the stillness. My bare body certainly felt the cold and frost and snow. I didn’t feel it at first, it was subtle, but as I gently laid back in bed alongside Steph, I noticed something deeper in the silence of the house. A cozy warm message that all’s right with the world.
