We made a quick trip to the bus just after Christmas. I wanted to pick up bones for carving and my wife wanted some alders for making wreaths. I picked what was forecasted to be the nicest day of the week, with temperatures in the 20s with no wind.
Upon arrival at around noon, the temperature was -15 (f).
As much as I’ve come to hate the cold weather, I was born for it. Colorado has softened me. The strong sun after even the heaviest snows tends to melt everything quickly. Where I grew up in northern Maine, not so much.
My children aren’t afraid of the cold. They bundled up and ignored it, which is what I want them to do. They may not be as tough as kids from northern Maine, but I’m trying to teach them how to endure. Try all I want, children are naturally resilient.
When we first bought the land in 2013, the first thing I did was build a fire ring. Aborigines build a fire wherever they are. It promotes a sense of place and home within them, no matter where they are.
Unfortunately for us, the fire danger at the land is usually high. I keep a spark arrester on our stove in the bus and generally don’t have fires outside. As a matter of fact, I’ve had a fire in the ring once. And I burned dung. Just to see if it could be done.
Being that there was plenty of snow this time around, I decided to officially christen the fire ring. No tea, no marshmallows. Just warmth. And it was good.
Mike, Oscar, Hotel….out.