Wrote this the last time I was here.There was snow and now there’s not and I miss it!! *************************************************** My new favorite unhinged activity is taking night walks on a full(ish) moon in Vermont. Ideal conditions include an iced over blanket of snow and crystal clear skies smattered with stars, temps nearing the negatives. I love doing this for many reasons, beginning with the pure rush. The thrill of being out, alone, on-trail with only the echo of my uneven footsteps and the babbling brook and the beady eyes of unidentifiable beasts peering out of trees that I tell myself, silently, are harmless. This, plus the fear mongering of bears doing more than just shitting in the woods— well the combination of these things, you see, gives me an adrenaline rush stronger than a lot of crazy things I’ve done. There’s the touch of nostalgia for sneaking out at 16 and then there’s the physical benefits too, of course. This funny little “let’s go for a spooky walk” habit of mine, it makes my lungs feel super awake and my cheeks rosy as hell. My eyes, ufo-sized (wtf does that even mean?). And then there’s the emo stuff too — the gratitude I feel for having a warm little hut to which I’ll return with dry wood to burn and hot water in which to bathe and clean water to drink (I’ll have wine instead), and all the things we are reminded so often to feel grateful for we often forget to be. But I think my favorite part is the predictable stupid smallness that overcomes me— the feeling of being a wee speck in this big bold uni (uni — that’s short for universe, not to be mistaken for roe. The Row. Thoreau?). That I could slip and fall into a sky full of stars on a quiet snowy night in Vermont, and not unlike a tree, if no one hears...well...no one would (save for the bears) and that, well that’s the best part.