The second week

Hills rise slowly on the distant blue horizon, over days they grow taller, the valley tighter.

The river meanders less, runs quicker, deeper, clearer.

Houses with bigger eaves, steeper rooves, snow bars on the tiles. The bare wood grey where it’s weathered by the harsher winter.

Barns are an extension now, not an out building. The animals become extended family in the cold times.

Bigger wood stacks, closer to the houses, the security of self sufficient, keeping warm.

More conifers in the woods. They are deeper, tighter spaced and smaller girthed.

Logging trails follow contours, deep turns have a soggy spot the sun doesn’t see. Streams can spring up anywhere furrowing the landscape.

Earth goes from deep brown loam to tan grey powder between the stones. The soils bones poke through.

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