A winter woods trek and an excerpt from Cougar’s Courage

We had a pretty good winter storm last night, severe enough that my writer’s group meeting was canceled. However, it stopped snowing overnight and by early afternoon, even the secondary roads were clear. Since I had an unanticipated afternoon off, I (predictably) headed for the woods. The nearby state park was full of families sledding and people enjoying the rare opportunity to cross-country ski and snowshoe in our own backyard instead of driving to northern New England.

Of course I wandered away from the crowds as best I could. Today’s paraphrased quote: “I took the road less traveled. Maybe there was a reason it was less traveled.” Yes, that’s a trail behind that rock! The woods trails were challenging, but not too bad, but when I ended up crossing an open field, where not too many people had gone before, I almost lost my boot a few times to the deep snow.

Luckily, every time I started to flag, I saw something beautiful to keep me going.

The light, at that moment, made me think of a scene in Cougar’s Courage. So I leave you with a little excerpt that relates to trekking through the snow.

The world surged. Auras flashed into bright precision. Becky’s earthy one, her own rainbowed with many neon colors and streaks of mourning darkness, even the trees by the side of the road haloed in deep green. The road to Couguar-Caché opened up, a clear path to those with eyes to see it. She was sure the snow would still be there for her to slog through, but now she felt truly invited and welcomed.
She gave Becky a quick, impulsive hug. “Do you see that?”
“I see a lot of awesome snow.” The girl smiled. “This is going to be great!”
“I see the way home.” Cara swung her feet out of the truck, strapped on her snowshoes and grabbed her pack.
As she waved good-bye to Becky, she felt a surge of grief. Somehow, she knew she wasn’t going to see the girl or her brother again. Wasn’t going back to Toronto.
Phil’s face hovered between the trees, his lips whispering something she couldn’t make out. Her old life was dead anyway, dead with Phil. It didn’t much matter if she made it back to Toronto or not. She willed herself not to cry until she was in a house in Couguar-Caché. Out here, the tears would freeze to her cheeks.
Then a glowing golden path opened under her feet. She opened to the energy of the forest around her. Her doubts fell away, replaced by crazy excitement. She was on her way to Couguar-Caché and a new adventure. And after all she’d been through in the past few months, that might be just what she needed.
About a kilometer in, snow whipped out of what, until a few moments earlier, had been a clear sky. The effort of snowshoeing kept her warm, but her face was freezing, and the wind cut through her knit wool hat, earflaps and all. She thought wistfully of that comfortable 4×4 parked at the edge of the main road, and of warm motels and the lonely but cozy condo in Toronto, currently sublet to a friend of Goulding’s.
She might end up crazy, but at least she’d be warm while she lost her mind.
Or maybe thoughts like that are the crazies starting in earnest. I can’t turn back now. The person who can help is somewhere ahead of me, in Couguar-Caché.
Or closer, she thought as she caught a glimpse of someone through the trees. When she’d come as a child with Mom, her grandparents had always been the ones to greet them, Gramps’s magic tamped down so he was just an older guy in a faded Bugs Bunny T-shirt. She’d heard tales, though, of other visitors who’d been greeted in various unexpected, magical ways: Grand-mère seeming to materialize from thin air, or a big, dangerous-looking animal—cougar, wolf, bear, moose—appearing to serve as a wordless guide.
The figure that appeared on the path before her was no wizened, cock-eyed elder in shamanic regalia (which, judging from her grandfather, sometimes involved Looney Toons boxer shorts worn on the outside of the clothes) and no animal that might or might not be a sentient being silently laughing at her.
It was the man from her dreams.