snow

after my latest reading marathon haley has challenged me to read an epic contemporary classic that's somehow eluded me, fountainhead. with tiny, tiny print and what appears to be over a thousand pages i said i was up for the escape, er i mean challenge. i actually love long books, john irving is one of my favorite authors and is a master of the long novel.

but before i dive into another completely engrossing week of reading, i opted to take a detour with a bill bryson book chronicling his hike of the appalachian trail. a walk in the woods. though i haven't done a bit of backpacking since luke was born, i still consider myself a backpacker. the book is hilarious and poignant and true to the letter of many of my experiences. all in all, a perfect literary diversion. also short. did i mention that? i've sat down with it for exactly two cardio sessions and i'm half-way done.

the weather report says we may get snow on saturday. this is the earliest atlanta would have seen snow in the 11 years i've lived here. i can't imagine it being more than a flaky rain drizzle, what with the temp reaching 40 for a high; but it is an ominous early winter bellwether.

in my early childhood snow was a fairly standard part of winter. northern arkansas. washington, dc. both places saw many white winter days. but as a teen and an adult, i can count on one hand the number of significant snows i've experienced. the first of those being the blizzard (yes, it really was a blizzard. check the almanac if you don't believe me.) of 1993. when i was on the appalachian trail myself. with my best friend marla.

our trip was aborted by the record low temperatures and snow billowing through the trees; but the few short days we were there remain surreal in my memory. the blizzard was just kicking into gear when we were hiking out, but the quiet of the forest in anticipation of the storm shrouded us like a blanket. where we were accustomed to forest sounds and rustling leaves and calling birds, we heard nothing.

it was unlike any backpacking trip i'd experienced before or since.
wind blowing. temperature dropping. pervading stillness before a storm.
though inexperienced, even we could read the signs. could sense the signs.

and so tonight, as i reach for my recreational reading and fill the stillness with words i trust myself to read the signs. to sense the signs. and to trust the signs.

an early snow?
perhaps just a reminder to listen to the quiet.

d: let it snow!
b: i trust the signs.
g: a walk in the woods, soon. very soon.