Monday, April 06, 2009
Snow on Saturday and snow yesterday and nothing this morning from the dry blizzard driven swirl of white crystals. Dry snow doesn't last long in the spring and we haven't had a really good wet snow since the end of March when Denver airport, most of the cities and sections of I-25 were shut down. I want spring to burst out all over but I feel cheated without at least a good long snow to mark winter and it's part of the reason I long to move back up into the mountains where snow means acres of blinding white sparkling under the sun, piled up along the roadways and drifting in among the lodgepole pines where mule deer and elk step delicately or race about among the trees, white sprays fountaining from their passage. There's nothing more majestic than seeing a lone stag or bull at the top of a hill or looking over a bulky shoulder as I drive past to remind me of the wonder and marvels of living out beyond the reach of civilization where macadam covered roads and blacktopped parking lots glare hotly back at the snow and its rising waves of heat push the flying flakes beyond its reach and into the fringes to gather, clump and settle. I miss the snow.
You'd think I wouldn't have time to miss anything, including the snow, with the first round of edits on my novel demanding my attention and planning sessions with the videographer who is doing the book trailer in between working my regular job and reading and reviewing the most recent box of books. And yet I do miss those long silent hours of peace and calm where my only companions were the wildlife and having breakfast with hummingbirds.
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy mingling with the rest of humanity but I need a rest from humanity after long exposure, and my exposure has been very long indeed as I get ready to celebrate four years living in town. If I could but take my little cottage and move it up into the higher peaks I would be happy. It's not exactly a cabin, but I could add a log surrounding to add insulation and depth to the walls and build a deck to surround the outside, as long as the landlord would agree to finally fix the leaking roof over my office. Of course, with a log wall at least a foot thick surrounding the outside, I am sure a new roof would be in order and the big window in my office would cease to be a waterfall when the snow melts or the wind drives the rain from the west and south. I think a high peaked roof would be in order and a greenhouse attached to the house to provide fruit and vegetables all year long.
Yes, I'm actually thinking about moving again. Due to a lot of networking and intensive marketing on my part, the novel will hopefully be a success and I can begin to put away the money it will take to buy my land and build my haven near the heavens so I can dip my toes in the flood of the social scene from time to time and cease to be surrounded by people all the time. The brain and the body need at rest from time to time, and I am long overdue. This autumn I might just take a few days and burrow into the mountains to get some untainted air in my lungs and feel the calming touch of silence far from the maddening crowd to recharge my psychic and physical batteries and feed my soul. The mountains are my cathedral and the silence my solace. Besides, I will have deserved it after the marketing push and circuit of lectures, talks and appearances coming up after the launch of the novel. With even more novels coming out, I will need the respite that much more, so a safe place to relax and recuperate will be a major priority. At least here in the cottage I'm halfway to silence most of the time and that's something.
How do you rejuvenate your mind and body?