One of my favorite comedians said, “I’m writing an unauthorized autobiography.” I get it! This is my life, I didn’t sanction or commission it, life just happens. Try as we might to plan it out, it’s the surprises that make it fun. Like this latest snomageddon.
There has been snowstorm after snowstorm here in New Hampshire for perhaps weeks, maybe a couple of months. Almost daily, I clamp on my snow shoes and plow my way through the woods out back of my house. Hip-deep and trudging best describes today’s outing, since there was fresh powder and I was the first to make the trek. My steadfast companion, Molly, was up to her neck, but neither one of us were complaining. Breaking new ground in the winter woods makes me think of a painter facing a large white canvas; or a writer, in front of a fresh sheet of paper.
Each day brings with it new possibilities; will I see deer, moose, or even bear? Most likely porcupines, snow shoe hare, or neighborhood canine tracks. Likewise, what words will appear when I finally get around to sitting down at the computer? Maybe I will plow ahead and work on that unauthorized autobiography, if I get permission.