Thanksgiving Reveries

The bittersweet vines glowed orange during a recent night hike.

We have reached that coziest of seasons. The mornings have the bite of winter, the night continues to eat the day, and the lights and warmth of home never felt more welcoming. The tea kettle and the soup pot are constantly in use. And I wake up each day with both Samwise and Emily draped over me.

The bird feeders are safely out again since most bears have decided their own dens are too cozy to leave. They are fat and drunken-tired, thanks to a good berry and nut season.

I delight in watching the birds come and go, especially when the snow is flying, but Sam and Emi enjoy them even more. That's especially true when the squirrels also show up. This is their equivalent of Netflix binging.

Unlike some of the older residents of our little mountain village who set up elaborate schemes to keep the squirrels off the feeders—including one woman who has rigged a trap to drown them—I put out squirrel feed and welcome these intrepid vi…