Blog

Winter

When there’s ice on the birdbath and rhododendron leaves are rolled tight as cigars, the summer of 2025 is really over. We grab hats and gloves to leave the house. Mica insists on walking us every day, and neither heat nor rain nor freezing air will change her determination. A short drive takes us to a nearly deserted state park where hills and trails challenge cold, late autumn doldrums with the reward of fresh air and exercise. We park at the Round House boat ramp at Lake Jocassee and huff our way up and around a ravine cut by a cold creek banked by moss, ferns, and Oconee Bells, where the swift run of water sings its way down the mountain. It’s December. The woodland creatures–snails, chipmunks, big-eyed bugs–hidden from our eyes, watch, and wait for us to move on. We’ll go home to our own habitat, a house, warm and dry, and count our many blessings. ~K