On this morning four days from the halfway point in my 100-day countdown to the vernal equinox, my outside thermometer shows 13 degrees and the barrel, containing paddling gear, is adorned by an absurd white top-hat this morning. Navigating anything other than oceans of fluffy white snow seems a long way off.
Fortunately I have plenty of heat emanating from my pellet stove, good music on the radio, some old maps to peruse, and an appropriate movie to later screen: Atanarjuat:The Fast Runner (if I can find it).
For some comic relief I enjoyed reading Kevin Cullen's take on all this in today's Boston Globe: "Blizzards can seem like the end of the world".
Some waterways I'm planning to experience once Old Man Winter takes his leave are:
Part of the Wampanoag Canoe Passage specifically near Massasoit's Monponsett hunting lodge where his eldest son Wamsutta (aka Alexander) was taken into custody by the dastardly (in my opinion) Josiah Winslow.
Where Metacomet (aka King Philip) and his Pokanoket followers escaped Pocasset by crossing the Taunton River.
Where Weetamoo lost her life trying to cross the same waterway.
These two ducks were also a long way from the water this afternoon...