The next morning I sat in the sunlight in front of the cabin and listened to the merry song of the chickadees, even though it was all of thirty below zero. I watched a red squirrel climb a jackpine to look for cones and then run around over the snow to find some it had cached…
The coffeepot was on the fireplace, and wood smoke curled up into the still morning air. Sun dogs shone over the hill back of the beach, and trees cracked loudly with the frost. It was no time to be sitting outside, even in the sun. This was a morning for reading and inviting one’s soul.
–Sigurd F. Olson, Sigurd F. Olson’s Wilderness Days, Alfred A. Knopf, 1972
Photo by Paul Smith