You gather things to you like an old road.
You are peopled with echoes and nostalgic voices.
I awoke and at times birds fled and migrated
that had been sleeping in your soul. -Pablo Neruda
I adore this passage from Pablo Neruda’s Love Poem XII (translated by W. S. Merwin).*
It conjures up a deep understanding of how desperately we cling to our past. The picture of the abandoned, snow-filled nest visually imparts the same aesthetic message.
I am thankful for the natural wonders on my doorstep, in particular, this adorable little bird’s nest that survived a huge dump of snow the other evening. It evolved from a nest into an igloo over night. It is a good thing its occupants are enjoying the southern most areas of the continent at the moment.
The good news is that I can now wander a little further a field. My boot cast is off and I am allowed to walk my dogs as long as I avoid hills (the incline on the way down is hard on the forefoot). This means I will be able to start exploring winter wilderness ASAP! This weekend I am planning a short snowshoe in the wilderness. No skiing, running and dance though (maybe for a year)
Here’s to more wilderness adventures in 2017!
an excerpt from Neruda, P. The Poetry of Pablo Neruda, edited by Ilan Stavans, 2003, Farrar, Straus & Giroux, New York