I detest being cold. I firmly believe I would never survive living anywhere north of here for very long. The winter months (as mild as they seem to some) find me huddled beneath blankets in the warmest place I can find. I rarely venture out-of-doors for more than necessity. By late February, I have generally contracted a horrific case of cabin fever remedied only by frequent trips to places so obscured by trees that I lose cell service. The forest has always called to me–it is there I feel most alive. The weather is warming, and it is time to get a little mud on my boots.
