Yesterday I was out splitting fire wood for the wood stove – dressed in Bean boots, long johns, jeans, a wool shirt, a fleece hoodie, a wind breaker and a knit hat. This is who I am and who I have always been. The temps were just short of twenty degrees and a blustery wind was blowing.
Once I had moved enough wood for a couple of days fire into the back porch I took a walk through the woods west of my house looking for birch bark ruminants blown down by the last storm that I could use for fire starting. There were deer tracks under the apple tree and moose tracks skirting the edge of my yard.
I came inside and the house was warm and toasty – the wood stove pumping heat, the comfortable sight of the fire glowing through the glass door. The house smelled of fresh maple bread that was baking in the bread maker, and my young wife was snuggled on the couch reading with our cat curled contently beside her. They both raised their eyes for a moment and looked at me as I hung up my outdoor gear before heading back to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
I experienced one of those moments of total contentment: Life is Good.