Just a few days short of mid-winter, and so it has been. Snow on the ground for most of two months, but every day the sun provides a little more heat, setting a little farther north. At this time of year comes a more accepting attitude of the season, fatalistic but not victimized. Some days are snow-bound; some days travel is more bother than it is worth. We are deep in winter, just get over it; and so we do.

   The winter has been a series of storms; El Nino or just winter? Clouds, wind, snow, rain and then sunny blue skies move across the region; weather systems from the Pacific customized for the land of enchantment. These atmospheric events are a visualization of time moving on by. Winter imposes its own sort of clock and calendar; here in the hinterlands we are forced to adjust. Neighbor friends from out where the road ends were snow-bound for two weeks. On their way finally into town, they stopped by to help get my truck onto the road and then visit awhile. Time takes on new forms.

 The dogs are enjoying the winter, each in their own way. The two original ranch-dogs accept it as the natural cycle of life. For Jo, this is her first winter. Like a little kid she enjoys the snow but is ready for a snack and warm nap when it’s time. Spook plays hard, especially attacking cuffs and heels as his ancestry demands. And then sleeping on the couch. Commonly used paths around the house are worn into the snow by boots and paws; easiest places to walk. Across the prairie or into the pine hills, snow-shoes make the trek less difficult. The same snow that slows and limits my world retains a temporary record of who passed this way: tracks tell a true story.

  These winter days of isolation provide for thought and consideration: almost a limitless amount of time and place. I wonder at why choose this place when there are so many locations of an easier life-style. We all have our reasons, nearly so numerous as the people that live here. For me, I suspect at least parts of the answers are in the words and photographs I post here. Time will sort it all out and the reasons will fade.

  Winter has altered the dance as only seems appropriate. Chaco likes to burrow and make her version of snow-angels; Hook rolls over and slides on snow-drifts and ice; Spook is teaching Jo to move in rhythm with pants-cuffs and soft boots. The dance evolves with time and the seasons.

   The enchantment of fire and ice, for you.