October 29

& now the snow, falling in a frenzy through the night & dissipating into slow, meandering flakes now, turning in the discernible breeze against the languid grey of the sky. Enough that it clusters & holds in odd patterns about the burls in the birches, or tendrils out along the spruce-boughs to where they cluster in cone. & that smell it brings, a kind of metallic, airy cleanliness borne aloft in the fine gusts. & now we watch it & gauge its accumulation & look at the dogs & beyond at the gaping miles of wild untended & we wait for it to hurry along.

I’ve decided to document this first year of trying to learn how to mush. It seems too singular an enthusiasm to disperse among the rest, or maybe too dominant a one to let determine the general hue of things. I have this for you, my four beloved readers:

www.amushingeducation.wordpress.com

Or I have it for myself, in any case. There is little there just yet, but over time, I hope it proves one of the instructive artifacts of a past recalled. Or some sounding board for the present clamor in me, anyway.

& otherwise, little else, but thinking mostly how curious to live a life that I so routinely interrupt with effusions of unprovoked gratitude.

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