Going Inkless

The view this morning was sharp and bright where you could see it.  This is usually the case on the coldest of mornings.  I had meant to capture the winter majesty from an attic window but caught a different kind of winter majesty instead.  Today started out at 16 degrees below zero, Fahrenheit.  (That's -26.6 C if you're reading this from outside the USA)  Most of the world in my immediate vicinity was holed up in their houses, taking an extra long weekend. Monday's forecast was all that people were talking about this weekend.  With wind chill predicted to be 50 degrees below zero (-45.5 C) there were dire warnings of the impending danger and sage advice for coping.  Children and pets should be kept indoors at all costs.  Don't travel unless you have to, and don't even think about doing so without food and water and extra blankets in the car.  Keep your ears, nose, and fingers covered; frostbite only takes minutes to set in.  Sun...

     Over the years, I have observed a kind of snobbery relating to forms of entertainment.  It is assumed that the only true or worthy art is in books and that classic literature is the height of that.  Modern works are, of course, less valuable than older ones because we've lost so much intellect, grace and elegance since those golden days. There are those who proudly announce at every opportunity that they don't watch television or that the only movies they see are documentaries.  The conclusion is that everything else is worthless tripe that could only be enjoyed by those of lesser intelligence than the snob.      The prejudice even extends to those who guiltily enjoy movies rather than "cinema", non-educational television, or "lesser" literature like comic books or science fiction.  Often, they seem almost apologetic or ashamed when they judge their choices as the candy of artistic offerings rather than the vegetables. ...

Winter camping holds charms that can't be matched in any other season: the solitude; the stark beauty; the contrast of warm clothes, fire or sleeping bag on a frosty night. Many fans would also note the absence of pests encountered on summer trips. There are no bugs, no snakes, no bears, no rowdy camper neighbors keeping you awake half the night. For years, I have enjoyed occasional trips in the winter months, happily alone through cold and snow. Though I have had my share of complications - frozen boots, six-inch snowfall overnight, a four day stretch of freezing drizzle - I have met these challenges with a smile. Nothing is quite as soothing as a long evening watching snowflakes sizzle in the embers, and nothing is quite as magical as a ghostly-silent deer passing through the silvered brush just yards from your camp. So, after hearing about the beauty of White Pines Forest State Park, I planned a cold-weather camping trip there. My original plan was preempted by a family...