January 10, 2024
The wind was still blowing strongly when I woke up. It was 4:02 AM and although the rain had stopped, the last remnants of the storm remained. Over coffee, my wife and I made an impromptu decision. This morning we would walk at the lake earlier than ever. We left the house at 5:40 AM, making our way to the car as the strong winds stirred pine needles and leaves. One of the trash bags I left outside, which was full of aluminum cans, had blown across the yard. There were cans strewn about everywhere.
At the lake, the winter weather is always magnified. The temperatures are lower, the wind blows harder, and although the rain had subsided, the air coming off the lake was bitterly cold. With the moon hidden behind the clouds, the area was completely dark. It would be another forty-five minutes before the sky would show any signs of light, but we hopped out of the car and boldly made our way to the start of the trail.
The trail was so dark it was hard to see anything. The storm left deep puddles of rainwater and there were tree limbs, some small and others large, hiding along the path, ready to trip you up. We worked hard to see the few feet in front of us, but we were having fun on this new adventure. Last week, I ordered some headlamps for just this purpose, but they had not arrived. I was happy to be on the trail, though. It felts a little precarious, but it was exciting.
The first two miles of the walk were in complete darkness. We tripped over trees, got tangled in rogue limbs, and splashed in unseen puddles of water. As we traversed the looped course, we removed the larger tree limbs off the path as a service to any hikers who followed. When we arrived back near the car at the start of mile three, twilight was barely beginning. As we were tucked away under a canopy of trees, the lake started glowing an eerie shade of blue as the light from the sky reflected off the water. From across the lake, the parking lot’s lights, reflecting off the lake, transformed the area into what looked like a fancy resort.
The light was bright enough on mile four that we could easily see our path. We scoffed at how the sun was slowly pulling away our adventurous morning, like someone dragging your warm blanket off on a chilly night. The sunrise was beautiful and after walking through the pitch black of night, seemed too bright. The winds subsided as ducks and geese awakened and took flight. We spotted a large bald eagle flying over the lake and thought we saw it again, perched on a branch a little way off the path. My wife took a detour to see the bird, but it was not the eagle. Instead, a red-shouldered hawk cried out and took flight.
There was something about walking in the dark that stirred us from the inevitable monotony that creeps up when living on a predetermined schedule. The walk was fun and exhilarating; it snapped us out of our routine and gave us a renewed outlook on the day. It reminded me it is important to embrace spontaneity when opportunities presented themselves. Like molting cicadas, we left our shells behind as we ventured home in high spirits.
At lunch time, I took a short walk through the woods to see if any large trees had blown over during the storm. It’s pretty rare to lose live trees, but the dead trees that still stand are susceptible. While I saw small branches of every type of tree in every direction, I only saw two trees in the pine grove that had snapped and fallen down. This left three of four sections of tree, each twenty or thirty feet long, tucked neatly off the walking trail. When the weather dries a bit more, I’ll go back and harvest them for firewood.
Our property weathered the storm well. I saw an Instagram post made by the city of Wilson, showing several snapped telephone poles that left many without power. My house, however old, is trusty and solid. By evening, all the inclement weather was gone and the crisp temperatures returned. As I was working in my office, I looked out the window and saw a colorful sky filled with pinks and blues, casting light on the pasture where eight to ten deer were feeding.
The evening included a T-bone steak grilled on the Traeger, which I shared with the dogs, and a small taste of whiskey. It was another day well-lived.