I tell myself there are advantages to deep snow in March

It's beautiful.

The skiing is good.

I can prune the old lilacs by the porch without using a ladder

(and I think I'm in the garden again.)

fuel shortages

There's a new sound in the landscape--

(not the town plow truck, not snowmobiles)

--chainsaws.

Winter isn't over, and we're running out of wood.

Who's watching? lunch as a data transmission event

Do "they" know what I had for lunch, what books I'm reading, and whether I nap on the sofa regularly? And what will "they" do with these details of my daily life?

Deep in the woods: a woman's hearth rose from these stones

Little ice age

On the road: slow food