Day 4

It is after six by the time I head out to my Sit Spot.  Sunset was 5:50.  I carry a bag with my head lamp, journal, and pencil.  I won’t need the headlamp for the walk.  Light pollution from the city reflected from snow will provide sufficient light for that.  But in case I want to write in my journal…

Conditions are tenuous…  The sky can’t decide if it wants to rain or snow.  Puddles can’t decide if they want to be frozen solid, slushy, or neither.  Black bits of path can’t decide if they are high-traction gravel or glare ice.  Some of the snow-covered ice provides gravel-like traction, and on other patches I slip and slide.  One bank of snow supports my weight.  At the next I take a bad fall and must retrieve my foot from a knee-deep hole.  The walk to the Spot seems to take forever.  The moon peeks through a cloud to encourage me and I walk on thinking I may not need the headlamp to journal.

But I do.  I settle down at the base of my tree.  Journal and pencil ready, I turn on the headlamp.  I write 6 or 7 words when suddenly there is a bright flash of light.  I look up expecting to see some other looney like me – out in the woods at night…  And I think, “What a wimp to use a flashlight for walking…”

But no.  A second or two later I hear loud, rumbling thunder.  Then wind… threatening to arrive, but never seeming to reach me… like an approaching train.

The snow that had been falling gently becomes more insistent, covering my face with little frozen pin pricks.  It piles up quickly on my shoulders and arms.  Apparently I am not to write in my journal tonight.

Distant tree trunks disappear completely.  Nearer ones turn fuzzy white.  I remove my glove and use my finger as an eyeglass windshield wiper.  I don’t know if it has been twenty minutes, but I decide to return to my car.  I retrace my steps and think about how weird this experience has been so far.  I wonder just how much weirder it will get.