Merry Christmas, my friends.
Today didn’t resemble the Christmases of my childhood. I’m sure Deb would say the same. It didn’t even look like those we’ve marked the last few years.
No tree. No travel. No gathering. No special meal (unless cold pizza is special).
I’ll remember this Christmas not for what it lacked, but for what it gave us.
Sweet peace.
The Mountain was socked-in with fog all day. Rain came and went. In our very own Christmas miracle, hundreds upon hundreds of songbirds descended on the trees around the cabin — we’ve never seen anything like it here, at any time of year.
It took only a few slivers of kindling to wake the woodstove this morning. We basked in its cozy glow well into the afternoon.
The dogs seemed to enjoy it, too.
And we went for a walk in the woods — up the trail behind the cabin, past The Amphitheater and the tree stand, pausing to rest on the bench at the summit.
We spied game trails we hadn’t noticed before. Lots of deer sign.
Deb returned to the cabin. I continued on out to White Rock.
These murky days may be my favorite time on The Mountain. It’s hard to explain why that’s so, but it is.
None of that sounds Christmassy to you, I’m sure, but I can tell you that it was full of joy and peace. However you spent this day, I hope yours was, too.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB