January 18, 2016
In our snowshoe hike to Lapham Brook yesterday, most of the way John and I needed to break trail through about eight inches of snow. Ordinarily, breaking trail is seen as a bit of a bother, but in this case it was a pleasure. The snow was soft, surrendering to each footfall without resistance or squeaky complaint. The trail was well blazed so we had no concern about getting lost. At the same time, we knew for sure that we were the only ones—meaning the only humans, there were plenty of other animals—in that particular stretch of woods. That thought was somehow exciting, making the woods feel like a different sort of space than what we usually inhabit.
Tracks are everywhere—
Hare, mouse, porcupine, squirrel—
Yet this snow is pure