A friend from home suggested that walking in the deep, dark January freeze might be beautiful.  No stranger to challenges, I bundled up and trudged south a few miles.

Sometimes, I feel like her, looking out towards something I can’t see; a girl trapped in a granite state.

Winter is like granite.  It’s cold, beautiful, and lonely.  I think some hockey will be required to make it through what’s left of it.

Can I get some Beanpot?