ceci n’est pas une blog.

last weekend, i escaped to the white mountains. i took my boots, my camera, my boyfriend, and my ever-present brown moleskin notebook, and took off in the snow, aimed north. we drove and smoked and laughed and blasted good tunes. we arrived at our cabin, met up with our friends, made a fire, and drank long into the night, laughing over board games.

we ate good food, smoked mediocre weed, didn’t sleep well, stepped carefully around the ice and snow. we played with the fireplace, talked philosophy, ate junk food and saw fireworks.

we took a short hike on a snow covered trail that ran along the river. it was a beautiful saturday, cold and sunny. we followed the packed paths from skiers and snowshoers before us, being careful not to fall into the knee-deep edges. we hopped across streams, and stopped at the edge of the river. we stood on rocks, took pictures, talked, planned future hikes, soaked in the sunshine.

i wandered away from my friends, and i stood on rocks in the middle of the pemi river. i breathed in the mountain air, so crisp it felt like the icy water below me. i took off my hat, let it dangle around my neck by it’s string, and listened. i took in the rushing of the water, the power of the river crashing over, around, between snow capped rocks. i looked downstream, where the river ran on forever and a stately mountain loomed – seeing, watching, protecting. i froze myself there, copied every detail into my memory.

the moment at the river, the weekend in the mountains, cleansed me, fulfilled a longing i wasn’t even aware i had. spring is nearing, the long, dark winter is receding. i have been reminded of the beauty and the power of the earth.