January 5, 2024
It was 4:00 AM, Friday morning, and I awoke, excited to be one day closer to the weekend. Over the recent holiday break, I developed a habit of walking at the lake with my wife, and although we could not do this on most weekdays, the weekends were ours to do as we pleased.
It was a frosty morning. At a quarter to six, my watch alarm buzzed, signaling it was time to warm my wife’s vehicle and scrape the ice off the windshield and windows. Between walking at the lake, hiking through the woods, and spending time outside on the deck, I have acclimated well to the winter weather. This morning I went outside in my thin flannel pajama pants and a light sweatshirt, but I didn’t feel cold or shiver in the 25 degree weather.
After turning on the car and scraping the ice, I walked to the tree line of the pine grove on the east side of the property. The pine grove looks sparse in winter. Although the grove was planted long ago, probably to harvest wood from the pines, it sat untouched and small deciduous trees had grown in the empty spaces between the thick pines. In spring, these small trees blossom and develop leaves, making the grove look full. During the summer, you can only see about fifteen feet into the grove because of the thick foliage. In the winter, however, you can see hundreds of feet.
This open space in the grove fills with light as the sun approaches the horizon at sunrise. Before it is even visible, the sun’s light glows in bright pinks, oranges, and magentas, casting a soft and colorful light. When the sky is finally bright, the pine trunks cut the light, scattering it into thousands of beams. This morning, however, it was still early, and I stood staring at the curtain of color that backlit the trees, turning them into dark scratchy silhouettes.
Before work, I practiced yoga on the wooden floors of my office. After, I showered and prepared for several online meetings. I felt excited for the weekend, but the workday would be extremely busy, one of those days that I would barely leave my office chair, except for a lunch break.
During lunch, I drove into Wilson and dropped off three books at the library. While there, I chose two commentary books, one on Walden, the other on Ralph Waldo Emerson. I also picked up a book of essays by E. B. White and a book on landscape photography. On the way home, I stopped at McDonalds, purchasing four chicken nuggets and iced coffee. When I got home, each of my pups got one nugget. While three of my dogs swallowed the chicken whole, Koda, a rescue that had a pretty rough past, held his nugget in his mouth for about three or four minutes before he licked and finally ate it. While an aggressive hunter, Koda also has a gentle sweetness in him.
This evening, there was a large Red Tail Hawk perched on the top branch of the tallest tree in my front yard. It cried out several times as I walked through the pasture. There are two such hawks that live in the area, and I’m always happy to see and hear them. In the pasture, I found a small hole in the ground that was over a foot deep. When I looked into the hole, it was too dark to see clearly, but I definitely saw a pair of small eyes looking at me. My guess was that it was a mole, but I know there are also snakes in the area that burrow underground in the winter, so I opted to leave it alone.
After checking the weather forecast, my wife and I postponed our Saturday morning walk until the evening. Tomorrow, it will rain for the first part of the day. I’m also thinking about going to a coffee shop meeting with a local camera club. One thing I love about nature photography is being out in the wild alone. Still, good things can come from collaboration with others, so we’ll see how it goes.
Friday nights are the best, not for what they are, but because of what they signal: the start of a weekend full of promise and adventure.