Archive
12/24/09 - (1)
Dressing for the Occasion
Now that I've unpacked my belongings, Feel fully settled in, for a twelve-day celebration, I'm eager to explore Lake Nebagamon's snow-draped outdoors.
I realize I have certain primal desires, unavoidable priorities, Not the least of which is my need to dress defensively, In the most appropriate clothing I could buy,
To protect my vulnerable being against the cutting cold, By insulating its corporeality in the many-layered folds Of fibers, fabrics, and fillers man-made, plant, and animal.
I bundle up, from toe to torso to shoulders to head, In knee-length wool stockings; black-silk long underwear; A second pair of long johns — cotton thermal — over it;
Blue jeans, flannel shirt, and fleece jacket atop them, Beneath an Arctic-tested, blue, hooded goose-down parka; Wool cap; neck gaiter; gloves within mittens; lined boots.
How strange it seems, to be so completely cocooned, wombed, Locked inside such a cumbersome second skin, As though I were a fireman, astronaut, or deep-sea diver,
When, not twelve weeks ago, I was vigorously walking this village's few main streets, Wearing nothing but jogging shoes, shorts, not even a shirt.
Yet I'm grateful, elated, to be able to withstand this raw blast, Knowing I am a match for its harshest drafts And that, at will, I can create my own paths, in the woods,
No matter that my feet have to plod in foot-deep snow, To let me pass through the dense emptiness of naked trees Decorated, in abstract patterns, by white silence.
Ah, but isn't it for this, exactly, with unswerving certainty, That I've returned to this sanctuary, in winter — To test the limits of my capacity for capturing natural rapture?
12/24/09 - (1)
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