what led to it

For the past three days--Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, February 25-27--Sparta, NY has been pounded by a thick, wet, gorgeous snow. It finally cleared today (Sunday), and after being lazy all day, the blue sky finally beckoned me out on the ski I had thought about all day. It was 5:45 or so, Canada had just hit the final puck into the '10 Olympics, and the sun was nestling into the trees we overlook from our 1991 Doublewide trailor. Far too late, but exactly on time, I clipped on my skis accompanied by excited barks from Bennie, our lovable mutt.
The snow was far too deep to slide through without effort. Even downhill required work. The trees were so socked with snow, it was laughable, and I took photo after photo, filled with that rare glee that accompanies nothing else but big snows. I scooted into the woods, and found that the snow was deep enough, I could glide over the creek bed that was normally inaccessible. As water gurgled below me, I slid over it, buffered by two-and-a-half feet of white cotton candy. That was exactly the consistency--when my skis went over it, the snow became that sticky mess that I used to get at the circus or fair when I got too creative with my sugary-pink treat. I slid down a creek bed or two. What would normally be a death-defying leap on cross country skis became a fun hop; everything was evened out to a forgiving softness by the white beauty.
I trudged further into some scrubby woods, and came upon a thicket I know the deer frequent. I ducked in and out of bushes until I came to a tree that was a small version of the tree of life in Avatar--turned and twisted roots leading up to branches frosted with a decorative touch no human could have. I took a few photos, and then heard the jingle of Bennie's collar. Having struggled through the deep snow, he had left me back at the creekbed, and I figured he had headed home, yet somehow he had loyally followed me. I gave him a few appreciative pets and the two of us continued on from this Found Altar Tree of beauty.
I wove around a few paths I knew, exploring. This snow has a bouncy quality. I felt like I was in a Bounce House, taking Giant Steps, and feeling the give and take of each step. Finding my way to "the meadow"--the more open land on our property--I realized how dark it had gotten, admiring the last bit of light on the more open horizon. Turning left back up the hill to our home, I heard Bennie 200 yards back or so. I knew he was struggling, and the scene was so beautiful, I decided just to pause and rest. Even though it was getting dark, I knew my way back. I fell back into the snow, realizing again how fun it is to get this much "cyoom" (short for accumulation, I guess). Falling straight back, I had a more feathery landing than if I were collapsing on the finest bedding.
I lay there and waited for Bennie. He jostled along faithfully, tail wagging even as his poor displasia-ridden hips struggled to keep up with the rest of his eagerness. He joined me, appreciative of the rest, and we sat there.
I saw one star before I fell back. But as I looked up at the sky, more began to appear. Orion. Others ("one day I'll take an astrology course"). A satellite.
One thing I realize each time I walk the land. It is always here. Through all the drama and emptiness and silliness of our lives, the trees and grasses, creeks, rocks, logs, humus are all HERE. I know there are other creatures too, who hide from us. Bennie is all too aware of them as well, and his ears perk up from time to time and his nose crinkles, smelling aromas too subtle for me.
This land is where we will live.
Who knows how long.
We hope to have others come and live with us.
Those who are beginning their adult lives.
Those who are experiencing their first freedoms.
What are we gonna spend our free lives on?
These are a few of the things I want to spend my free life on: relationships, compassion, woods, meals, stars, skis, silence, snow, candles, prayer, cutting wood, plowing snow, building things, digging dirt, planting seeds, weeding, watering, tears.

I got up in the darkness and started treading back to the barn and the house. It occurred to me (in that banally weird way technology enters our minds) that I'd like to write facebook status about this night. But obviously, there was more that needed to be said. So I'm starting a blog. It will be updated from time to time. Not sure how often. Not sure how I feel about blogging. But it's felt good tonight.
This morning I read the story about Jesus healing a blind man in Bethsaida: "There the people brought a blind man to Jesus and begged him to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village. Then he spat on his eyes, laid his hands upon him, and asked whether he could see anything. The man's sight begn to come back, and he said, 'I see people--they look like trees, but they are walking about.' Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again; he looked hard, and now he was cured and could see everything clearly." (Mark 8:22-25)
Sometimes we need to be taken by the hand and led out of the village to be healed. That's what we want to do with "Lagom Landing", a place where people come to receive a bit of vision. We may only get to the place where people look like trees walking about, but we will keep on looking hard, waiting for the time when we are meant to see everything clearly.