JOURNALS
Backwoods Blog;
in the woods and on the road…
“coneheads” (photo by Dave)
I started keeping a journal and daily calendars back in 1990 when I had just sold my business and decided to move to the woods (which was only half a mile from US Route 1 on back of my family’s property). Although it was not deep in the woods, it was far enough, with no wired connection (power or phone) to the late 20th century world. In that “remote” space I was able to collect my thoughts, put a few down on paper, and mostly, live in a manner that made sense to me at the time.
I used to think that memory was a relatively consistent and reliable function of the human brain. Thirty years later, I now realize how flawed that idea is. Gee, I can’t even remember what I had to eat last night. When something is happening, you think you’re going to remember it years later (along with plenty of details), but then, somehow, much of it gets lost along the way when you try to reflect on it, or someone asks you “Do you remember the time…?” This is where my journals and the daily calendars come in handy. In these, I have recorded the day-in and day-out details of what was happening at the time; every book I’ve read, movie I’ve seen, diner I’ve been to, dates and meetings with people, road trips, holidays and the price of gasoline at the pump. Never anticipating the internet and data services, I logged snowfall records, temperature highs and lows in Monticello, Maine for over 30 years, all in my little books. Now, when someone is wondering when such and such happened I just say, “Give me a minute and I’ll be right back…”
I’ve included two journal entries, over a four day stretch, from the winter of 1997 in today’s blog. ABC News and CNN reported “Storm of the Year Hits Maine!” and it was a bad Nor’Easter indeed. Here is the “Backwoods Blog” version. Keep in mind, these were my “bachelor days” in the woods before I met Linda. She would join me a few years later.
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March 6, 1997 Thursday morning
My batteries were low last evening at 11.6 volts, due to overcast conditions the last few days, so I shut down the system and lit the kerosene Aladdin lamp. The soft glow of the lamp (and oily smell), along with the sound of the wood stove filled the quiet, dark night in a simple manner reminding me of previous winters, not so long ago, when I was without photo-voltaic conveniences…
I awoke this morning, glanced out the window and saw snow falling outside.
The big storm the radio warned us about is here; total silence, my breath rolling out of my mouth across the bed blankets like cold little clouds, fresh snow piling up outside the window, the wind driving it into the Maine woods, here where I am now, awake, thinking about it, grateful to this marvelous universe that I am a part, with no place to go today, contemplating existence and ex-lovers and hot oatmeal for breakfast.
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March 9, 1997 Sunday afternoon
I am buried in snow. 18 inches dropped on us Thursday and I’m still digging out. I shoveled the sauna roof off yesterday with snow accumulation measuring over 40 inches deep! During the storm, winds gusted to 60mph from the west which literally buried the front porch of the cabin. Conditions were so severe, it reminded me of wind storms on our winter trips to Katahdin, when it sometimes felt like Pamola himself was trying to blow you off the mountain. Skiing today, the sun was bright, the snow laying deep everywhere, spring-like conditions in the low twenties, a deep gully of snow collapsed into the river along the east bank. On the ski trail I came across a solitary deer in the woods. I had stopped skiing, taking a little break, when I looked up and noticed a white-tail deer standing broadside next to a tree about twenty feet away from me. He was quiet and motionless (just like me). We watched each other, for what felt like a very long time, neither of us in any hurry to do anything. And then the backwoods stand-off ended abruptly, the deer leaping into the trees heading in the direction of the river. The unspoken nature of the wild insulated in the snow.
In the woods,
Dave
February 25, 2025
river and sauna
cabin in snow
Buddha in snow
journals and daily calendars