Flashes of Panic

The views of the Valley are changing now that the leaves are down. The ridges which used to be solid green canopy are now visibly furred with tree trunks, the light showing through. (This will become more pronounced when the snow falls.) On my drive up to Sunderland, I can sometimes pick out the fire tower atop Mt. Toby, and other times a glimpse of the Peace Pagoda, normally so hidden in the woods that the “reveal” as you come out on its lawn is breathtaking.

This morning, I thought I could see through the branches from our third-floor apartment across the hump of Amherst downtown and over the Fort River plain to see the first bits of light over the Pelham hills. I’m pretty sure I was imagining that, though.

I am looking forward optimistically to getting out snowshoes and cross-country skis; however, I read in Tuesday’s paper that my favorite touring center, Hickory Hill in Worthington, has closed (or, more correctly, won’t be opening again.) They groomed more trail for skate-skiing than most areas do; many, like Notchview, only groom a small fraction for skating and just lay track for classic skiing on the rest. I’m OK with classical skiing, but skating is so much more fun—more like flying.

Now Playing: Ring The Bells from Getting Away With It… Live (Disc 2) by James