We haven’t seen the ground for almost a week. It’s buried beneath fifteen inches of white stuff. That doesn’t sound remarkable to those who live in many parts of the world, but here in the Willamette Valley, we can go for years without seeing any snow accumulation at all, so a foot of it brings our lives to a screeching halt.
I spent three days inside, working on wedding albums, reading books, playing games, talking on the phone with my kids and my mom…and going absolute starkers. I ventured into the snow each day *for fun*, but I have to be honest. I’m not a fan of the stuff. It’s cold, it’s wet, and it gets into my boots and my clothes when I walk or sled or…
Yesterday, the main roads were clear, though our LONG driveway was still treacherous. So we walked two miles into town. We’d intended to take the footpath that starts a quarter mile from our driveway, but when we got there, we realized it was not clear. So we walked along Highway 99W, sharing pavement with cars and semis. It would have been terrifying if everyone wasn’t going so slow. They were more afraid of us than vice versa, moving well into the oncoming lane to avoid any chance of disastrous slippage.
A two mile hike in the sun and the snow did wonders for my outlook. Walking fuels my desire for adventure. I daydreamed about a road trip to St. Louis to visit my youngest son, a plane trip to New York to visit my oldest (and Yankee Stadium,) a trip to Gettysburg, where my daughter and family may be this fall. Then I made a mental list of the items I need to walk parts of the Pacific Crest and Appalachian trails. (PCT and AT, for those *in the know*.) I wondered if I should add the CDT to my list. Even a few miles on it, and I could claim the triple crown of hiking. I thought of Iona, that holy thin place in the Scottish Highlands that whispers for my return…
By the time we reached the studio, I was ready to settle down to an afternoon’s work. Fog descended with evening’s dark, so we arranged a ride home with friends.
This morning, temperatures have moderated and it’s raining. Silly Pacific Northwesterner that I am, I was shocked to wake up to a still white world. Turns out, it will take days for our liquid sunshine to melt the snow. But my head is no longer fifteen inches deep in white stuff – I’ve cleared the cotton that clouded my mind. I’m ready to travel. Come on, Spring!
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I’ve loved my sojourn in Gettysburg and Madison. Caring for my bright, determined grandchildren. Discussing theology, listening and being with my daughter as she walks the path of the pastor-to-be. Basking in the energy and enthusiasm of my son-in-law. Immersing myself in passionate intellectual converation with my son and his friends. Learning new ways of being church in the twenty-first century. Ballgames! And so much more.
Seeking My Best Self 