Breathe In, Breathe Out

Our heater quit yesterday. So, instead of sitting in a gelid house next to an inadequate space heater, worrying about the hiring and firing of a new furnace that cannot be installed till after the holidays, I packed a small bag with snacks and a book, grabbed my camera, and drove north to sit in front of a frozen Mauch Chunk Lake. The Sleeping Bear was majestic in its winter dress.

I have long held the desire to take brief periodic respite from life's daily toil, but I have never built the boundaries necessary to bring this about. After walking the misty trails and testing the solidity of Mauch Chunk's ice with a stone the size of a potato, I nestled into my warm car, chocolate chip bagel in hand, and read Fanny Britt's "Louis Undercover." As I read, I saw from the corner of my eye a weasel scurry across the lake's frozen crust. Why in the world wouldn't I make this more a part of my life?