It was just about snow. Another 1000 meters. Maybe less. Several V’s of geese heading south. If we were smart enough we would look at them, marvel at the way they change positions, helping along. Knowing it takes them all to get where they are going.

***

Dug the last three turnips. Swede Turnips my Dad called them. Good in stew or mulligans with a wild chicken or deer meat. A good neighbour walked by and I gave one to him. He carried it back and forth from the mail. I told him he could leave it and pick it up on the way back. I guess he didn’t want to take the chance I may change my mind. It was a seven pound turnip after all and not to be taken lightly.

***

Always wondered about the creek. While it’s muddy and I can’t see the bottom is when it’s flowing fast. Once it clears I promise myself I’ll figure it out. Before long it’s muddy again, and I don’t seem any better off. Damn that goddamn creek.

***

As I get older fear seems to take a back seat, figuring it out. It is a ragged ride in an engine driven sled, over hill and dale, over bumps and shitty road, all this while sipping something cool, watching the sky, trying to figure it all out, knowing all the time you never will.

***

If I had to make it big. I’d have to turn my heart black. That’s not to say everyone on top has dark hearts. We all start somewhere. I’m trying hard to leave my mark upstream. It’s that damn current after all.

***

My boots are wet, I’d better get used to it, before they freeze solid.