Today was my pop’s birthday, he died in 2011. I still miss him everyday, and it’s especially hard when I’m home for the holidays. Today my Dad and I went for a boil-up at Black Hill Pond, I never officially ‘declared’ it, but I wanted to do it in memory of my pop and all the times that we would go out together and do the same thing.
In my previous life I was a sniper! Who knew?
My toaster haha
THIS is toast bread!
Boiling the ‘kettle’
Another bit of wood for the fire
Waiting for the kettle
My handy-dandy fire
At one point I was hit in the head with a flying stick. Got the little cut to prove it haha
Limbs for the base of the fire
Here’s a good spot
And in the darkness the snow glowed like faint light.
The frost tickled the tree line and whispered gusts of sparkling snow,
landing softly at our feet.
This winter will be different.
This winter we’ll be warm.
I remember when the streets were that special kind of muddy.
The kind that existed when the snow was just cold enough to make a dirt pepper with the effervescent sand.
The wind swept over,
Leaving cattail snow drifts. Not cold enough to stay, not warm enough to melt.
‘Til the sun beat down mercilessly
And life melted back into normal.
Such as it was.