Thank you

Every time I hike, snowshoe, or ski up to Squabetty in the winter, I go foremost to see my old friend. I miss her. I check to make sure she’s doing okay in the snow, ice and wind that Mother Nature throws our way. Sometimes it’s a bluebird sky and there is no better place to be. I check the house, the barn, the sauna and other outside spaces. I looking at windows, screens, siding, and the chimney. I look for the note my twin brother left me in the window of their workshop years ago. It’s written on a piece of wood, just saying Hi. It means the world to me. I examine the huge larch by the bridge, pick up any small branches that have come down.  I walk up to the lean to, and the highwater bridge. They are fine. I often write on the chalkboard outside the dining room door on the porch. It’s the one with dried day lily pods and a note someone left on January 13, 1995: 62°F. I record my initials, the date, temperature and maybe some odd comment. Sometimes a neighbor adds an entry. I love this record of comings and goings during the off season.  

I know this place is well looked after when I am not there. The tracks in the snow tell of the deer that cross and walk the drive, the coyotes and fox who wander through the woods, the moles who tunnel mosaics in the snow. I am most definitely not alone up there. I can see the trails of hikers, skiers, snowshoes and dog sleds that keep a watchful eye on this land too. I know our neighbors would let

us know immediately if something were amiss. I am grateful to them for keeping this place on their winter journeys. When we cross paths and catch up briefly, I am reminded what community is and what it means to me. Feeling grateful for neighbors that love being on the trails that crisscross our land and this blessed place. I am heart full. 🙏