I've heard that many crave the warmth of the sun upon their countenance and seek suitable climes when all-too-brief lesiure times afford.
How many others, though, find peace in a comforting blanket of snow? How can one pass through our mortal coil without experiencing the styrofoam crunch of really cold snow underfoot, the sounds of traffic and other modern mayhem muffled into obscurity by a heavy snowfall, or the forever dusk of the winter months at northern extremes?
There is, I posit, another state of existence to be found when the external world turns opaque and visual acuity no longer dominates. Senses of touching, hearing, smelling are heightened so that your entire being is engaged, so that one can no longer conveniently ignore thoughts and feelings...
That time has arrived; my annual solitude in a little log cabin deep in the mountains. See you next week