Winter is slow to get here this year; so far all we’ve had is rain. Which is ok with me. The longer I can drive my truck into my yard, the happier I am.
It is hard to hate when you live in the forest. Something about the quiet of the woods that puts one’s mind at ease. You begin to realize that hating anyone or anything is small minded and petty.
In the woods, with at times dangerous wildlife all around, you understand the power of nature.
When you step outside to find a bull moose in your yard, you understand the meaning of calm.
When you have to plow through four feet of snow to go anywhere, you understand the meaning of patience.
These are my thoughts for this morning by the fire.