The moon and three brave stars peeked through the advection haze of a warm winters night.  I stood alone in a snow crunch, thread bare place, not ready to go in.  The Doppler din of passing cars mixed with the ticky-tacky hiss of spinning tires on a wet country road.  My nose still burned from the chlorine bath of countless kayak rolls. My fingers pressed against my watering eyes. The air horn blast of a Great Northern diesel shot from the west to ricochet off the dark silhouette south-eastern hills. I looked up to see the tiny yellow lamp of a small plane escorted by flashing Christmas light wings as it rose over the northern horizon.  As it passed I heard the buzzing of it’s bumble bee engine fighting to catch up. I pressed my hand on my cold but still burning nose.  

Sometimes I could stand outside forever. I wondered what it would be like to lye down in the snow and go to sleep.  As another car passed,  my thoughts evaporated into the wet night air.  I turned toward the dim amber lights of a tired house, grabbed my Greenland paddle from the back of my truck and walked the lumpy un-shoveled path to the door.  I paused for just a moment. I watched another car pass. For a dead frozen second all was quiet. Then I went inside.