February 7, 2015
It’s snowing again, and again, and again. This is really winter and I love it. I want to be trapped in the house and forced to organize and clean and wrap myself in blankets and read and finish old projects and catch up on the movies I missed. I want to cook and curl up by the fire and sip scotch.
It’s not only snowing, but it is cold. Bone chilling bitter cold.
I went for a long snowshoe today. Breaking trail through the woods and out onto the heath, it felt wonderful to be out and moving and catching up with an old friend I haven’t seen in years. She is here to tuck in for a few days and have some winter activity. It’s been six years since we’ve seen each other and the stories to share are many. It’s an interesting process winnowing out the least important and deciding which to recount, trying to gauge how much detail to include and how to color it for interest and clarity. The stories chosen relate to each other, tit for tat, tat for tit, you then me, oh that reminds me, yes yes, I know exactly what you mean, same thing happened here, oh wait till I tell you, how did you make that, oh really, I didn’t know that, oh my god, you are kidding…
It weaves in and out rather seamlessly and the hours pass and daylight fades and the fire burns and it seems a rich and valuable gift, this long, long friendship. With years between visits or even conversations, the annual Christmas card or Facebook glimpse of milestones, events, adventures, and losses, are enough glue to hold us together until we revive the bond without it seeming like there ever was a lapse.
February 7, 2015