No polar explorer

Passing the slope where we recently caught sight of a fox, we noticed that the pigeons were not assembled on the power lines where they usually observe our approach.

But we caught up with them just the other side of the hill and this perch was far enough from the road that they didn’t feel the need to flap off in a panic.

We’d gone for the groceries forgotten on Sunday, but with one last splendid day before a grey week, we then set out on another sightseeing trip.

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“Where are you going now?” asked Willow as I said goodbye again.

She always has to be told that we’re going out and when we expect to return.

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For enjoying views, you’ll never go wrong in Vermont.

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We’d found our way there just the day before, but this time we headed a little further north.

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We are but a stone’s throw from the Vermont border.

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If I’d had the luxury of more time and better mobility, perhaps I would have found a home in Vermont, yet we are quite happy where we are.

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Having moved about a lot from an early age, I have never consciously considered any particular place home, but when I decided to return to the east coast, New York seemed to pull at me.

This was my home state for 36 years before I went to Washington, but I lived on Long Island and I had no interest in going back there.

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Choosing a home, I began looking in an area I’d read a lot about. It was as simple as that.

For once I did not over-think my move, allowing fate to guide me.

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In fact, despite my tendency to worry and over-analyse decisions, on rare occasions I had allowed fate to guide me before. I thought of it as being impulsive or reckless and people I knew looked at me askance. Yet those moves turned out for the best.

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The thing is, I don’t believe you can deliberately give yourself to fate, because the moment you start to think about it, you have already taken control. If you see what I mean.

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These roads through the woods had been kept clear, but in places there was quite a lot of ice. We would not elect to drive on such surfaces in heavy traffic, but here we encountered perhaps two other vehicles in two hours.

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Photographs do not adequately capture the delight of this experience.

The stillness and the quality of the light.

Glimpses of the hills.

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The white carpet reflected sunlight that was unrestricted in the absence of a canopy.

Periodically, I noticed the contrail of a passing aircraft far overhead. I don’t know why, but it contributed pleasantly to the experience.

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The faintest hint of colour where buds are forming.

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Occasional open fields.

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Long, dark, linear shadows.

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The trickle of a stream where ice has begun to melt.

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Though frost still held a frigid grip!

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Driving along in the car, it was quite warm enough to crank down the window periodically. And a couple of times when we stopped and I got out, the cold air felt refreshing.

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Like most people, I am not fond of feeling chilled, but on a crisp, dry, still day, for a few minutes I enjoy the sensation of bracing cold. I find it invigorating.

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It’s all very well when you have a warm retreat.

Polar exploration? Not on your life!

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