For some reason I thought I could sit down and write a journal entry of substance. That now seems unlikely. It's snowing again, and it's 17˚F (with a windchill of 6˚F ( Read more... )

An odd night. A wild night on the mountain, the wendigo's breath rattling through the trees and roaring across the snow that fell all day yesterday. It woke me again and again, that wind. I got up just before dawn and stood at one of the kitchen windows, watching an incredibly bright Jupiter setting behind the trees. The night was so bright you ( Read more... )