Have a Happier New Year

Sorry, dear friends, I'm at least 10 days late to wish you all a Happy New Year.  But I sure do hope it will be a happier year than this past year was for me. Pain and muscular weakness from knee replacement surgery last February has limited my aerobic activity up until now, causing loss of fitness that continues to curtail all but the easiest outdoor adventuring. Then recently, Death swung his mortal scythe through multiple beloved family members and dear friends, which cast a pall over holiday happiness. A stomach virus descended upon me, too, and the headache, nausea, and fatigue hung around for weeks after I'd supposedly healed.  And of course, our nation's political crises have added rage and anxiety to this noxious mix. 

Our weather hasn't helped, either. No sooner did we get the kind of sparkling snow and crystalline ice we winter-lovers crave, than freezing rain arrived to ruin it all. And sheet-ice on my front steps sent me crashing down in a backside-bruising bumpy slide before I had managed to sprinkle on the Ice Melt. Deprived of the beautiful ice formations along tumbling creeks, I've had to find delight in the lacy crystals that grew from the salt I finally spread on my steps.  They were really pretty though:

And then, the very best remedy for deep funk arrived this past Thursday:  A gorgeous, blue-sky, sun-warmed afternoon with the very best of nature-loving pals.  My dear friends Sue Pierce (red coat) and Dana Stimpson joined me to stroll around on the finally frozen-over Moreau Lake.

It was easy walking across the snow-covered 8-inch thick ice, with puffy low clouds drifting lazily across the sky. We could see there were quite a few ice fishermen out on the lake, and I suggested we go visit them to find out if any fish were biting today.

Well, whatever residual grumpiness still lurked in my spirit this day, it was certainly dispelled by this young man's ample cheerfulness.  His name is Dylan, and he simply glowed with pleasure, sitting here surrounded by his seven flagged holes, even though not a single one had yet required his hurrying to check what fish had snagged the bait.  Despite his apparent youth, he was a very accomplished hunter and fisherman, having successfully tested both of those skills in several different regions of our continent, although he lived close by, on one of the bays of the Hudson River.  We three delighted in hearing of his adventures, and he seemed quite pleased that we were eager to do so.  I was struck by how at ease he seemed in his solitude, too, content in his own mind and memories, perhaps, while also happy to converse with us. He also appeared to be enjoying the remarkable warmth of this windless day that allowed him to bask bare-armed in the bright sunlight.

Here is another cheerful fellow we met on our way back to our cars. I'm sorry I neglected to ask his name, but I did ask him to hold up that gorgeous Rainbow Trout he had caught today.  Wow!  No wonder he looked so happy!

Such jolts of joy, this sun-warmed, blue-sky, friendship-lifted adventure provided me! Everything about it helped me move out from under my personal clouds and look forward to more joys to come.