The writing cabin: 9:15 AM
I'm here to rest this week mostly, with a day of study thrown in for the coming Sunday. I rise at 7:30 this morning and begin "The Complete works of Flannery O'Conner" as I drink a pot of French press. There's snow falling outside, now vertical, now sideways, as the wind makes the trees dance. My wife is in bed watching the snow. The cabin is warm. Chickadees are running for cover outside, making the eaves of the writing cabin a safe place. She wachthes them too.
We've brought skiis just in case. Today, at least, it's enough to sit. Watch. Pray. Cherish the shelter of the cabin like a warm hug. Words aren't needed. Just rest. The only words that spill out of my mouth: "I think I'd be as happy sitting here watching it snow, as sitting on a beach in Hawaii."
"Happier" my wife says. She's right. Silence resumes as the snow falls.
I might write more later, but the beauty of this week is simple: no commitments!