January 18, 2002 It's a Thursday afternoon and the snow is gently falling outside the cabin window. The forecast isn't calling for much accumulation, and that's okay. The past-due snows finally arrived in bulk this past week, so I am content. The fourteen or so inches (according to my snow-stick calculations), officially closed our road to the cabin for the season. Along with this comes a more thorough solitude initiated by seasonal mandate. Linda and I don't get as many visitors dropping by this time of year. If someone does show up on at our front door (via snowshoe, ski or ski-doo), we figure they must really want to see us! I look forward to the limited access and instant isolation that accompanies the road closure. This is the time of year when the stack of books in the corner get more attention and thoughts find their way to paper more readily. The silence rests heavy in the snow and the dogs position themselves in strategic indoor spots. The coffee pot sits on the woodstove like it's a backwoods diner, only I haven't seen the waitress for a couple of hours now and I'm starting to wonder if I should leave a tip...