snow, mush, and eggs
Driving to the office this morning was epic. I noticed all the mountains were capped in white all around Sandgate. It was perfect. Like a giant took a powdered sugar sifter and topped them off. My hollow wasn't high enough to take the hit, but I appreciated seeing the possibility of it all around me.
I'm looking forward to this winter. I'm prepared with wood and heating fuel and the dogsled's already been dusted off. I think (I worry) this will be the dogs' last big season in harness. Next year Jazz will be ten and already he has to place a paw on the bed now to leap up and join me at night. He used to just fly up, like a gazelle. Now he needs a little support. Might be a sign his distance days are behind him. We'll play it by ear and long as he wants to pull, he will. Just not as far or hard—gentler runs, more downhill.
Cyrus, the goose you see here, is the only goose you'll see around Cold Antler now. Don't worry, his girl Saro is just fine but she's pretty damn occupied. She's been sitting on a giant clutch of goose eggs for days now. Some have never known the world away from her down, which isn't like her. Usually Saro sits for a few days and gets bored and leaves, but not this time. She's been stalwart and true. Every evening I carry the water font and feed to her, and she obliges with long gulps. Cyrus waddles up when I do this, hissing the whole time, but in a way gets that this is room service and not terrorism and lets me go. There's a chance for some goslings here and that's exciting. I'll keep you posted.