Yesterday's Walk

It was a perfect morning for a walk down the road in Lanark, old cedar split rail fences to the left and the right, sunshine and blue sky above us and fresh snow on the road crunching underneath my hiking boots. Many of the cedar rail fences in Lanark are more than a hundred years old, and every single one is a work of art. No two fences are the same, each a unique expression of the maker's craft, and a liminal space to be pondered.

Yesterday we walked for miles in the early February sunshine. Now and then in our travels, deer crossed the road in front of us, and ravens paused in their aerial games to croak greetings. Flocks of wild turkeys feeding in the fields nearby looked up to see what all the fuss was about and then went back to their search for food. We heard owls hooting in the woods, and there were coyotes howling somewhere over the hill and not far away - both owls and coyotes sounded happy.

When the day clouded over, we returned home to tea, scones and a fire in the wood stove, one started with apple and cherry kindling, then nourished with birch logs from last year's cutting - yesterday's late afternoon fire filled the whole house with its fragrant incense.

These snowy fields and old rail fences are perfect in every way.