Sarah has been inspired to write after her recent visit to WHF. Here is a piece she has offered to share about her winter adventure.
“It fills up my senses.
LOOK – Was that an eagle at the tree top, tall above Wentzell Lake?
He was just leaving — or was he greeting us, upon our arrival to Power House on the west shore of the lake. Steve pointed out the large bird to us as he helped with our suitcases across the icy spots leading to the house. He then left saying, “Enjoy your stay at Power House.”
We had arrived at Windhorse Farm, about 1 1/2 hours south of Halifax, along the shore and just a bit inland. We Nova Scotians get mostly rain along the shore, turning to ice. Inland we get more snow. When we took a left turn from Hwy. 103 onto Hwy. 10, the snow was noticeably deeper, and the road very icy — almost like driving across an icy lake. I buttoned my coat and turned up the car heat. It was getting chilly at 3:00 PM.
I had questions…where are the light switches? Is there extra wood for the fire? And I imagine there is no phone, correct? My cell may not work here. Was I anxious? Would I face challenges ahead and perhaps experience adventures previously unknown?
Snowshoeing by Full Moon Light
After settling into our comfy carpeted bedroom, we put an extra log on the fire…just in case. We were to meet others up at Juniper Lodge for snowshoeing by the full moon light. This was a first for me! I rented snow shoes for $18/person for the weekend. Such a deal! They were nothing like the large wooden ones I remembered from the past, those shaped like a beaver with its tail! These modern snowshoes looked more like a spaceship…silver and light with many straps crossing over the tops of our winter boots.
We left our cabin at 6:45 PM, and walked up the road to Juniper Lodge where we met 10 others who would join us for this adventure. The golden light from the campfire was a welcoming sight. We gathered around in anticipation, and one by one we shared our thoughts and feelings about our upcoming adventure through the forest by moonlight! I hesitated, then said, “I am looking forward.” I didn’t speak of my anxiety, although I’m sure it was quite apparent.
The snow was hard and crunchy, from the recent weather fluctuations of snow turning to rain and then ice — not the soft, quiet snow I had imagined. The moon, full in Aquarius, my sun sign, was hiding behind dark clouds, and the air held a grey foggy mist all around. We didn’t use flashlights, because we were asked to use our senses to guide us. The only problem was — there was very little moon light, only the faint sculptures of the dark green trees, and the grey white trail ahead of us.
We began our walk in single file, into the dark woods. Steve was at the head, I was somewhere in the middle. The first part of the trail was a slight hill, then a steeper incline. I was breathing hard, and quickly noticed how my lung capacity was not as it was 30+ years ago when I last went on such an adventure. Now and then I spotted foot prints from a rabbit or deer. They must have been hiding in the forest, perhaps watching us as we walked along.
Ahead was a hill leading to a very expansive meadow, with a large maple tree in the center. Steve told us the tree was 400 years old! It was very large with so much presence. It appeared to me like a friendly monster! I wondered how it would look in daylight — I hope to return to that very spot someday. I imagined it in summertime with large round green leaves. This evening, the maple was bare, strong, and grey. I wondered how far down its roots grew.
Past the maple tree, the fog was so heavy, that it was hard to decipher exactly what the shapes were around us. Some in our group laid down to rest, and to take in the elements. The pine trees and light birch tree trunks seemed alive, and putting on quite a show. The grey white snow was hard beneath our bodies. I was bathed in the surroundings and didn’t have a care of what might lie beyond our circle. The experience somehow seemed complete.
Our line formed again, single file through the forest, turning slightly to the left. I was hoping this was the direction of the Juniper Lodge below, as I was feeling tired and a bit anxious. My fear was of the unknown. Could I complete the walk or would it be too tiring for me? Was I up for the challenge? Would we come across a deer? I hoped we would. As we continued through the middle of the forest, my peripheral vision was scanning the trees for any signs of movement. I wondered if I would be frightened had a forest animal appeared to me. Perhaps the sound of our skis hitting the crunchy snow was loud enough to keep them at a distance.
We descended along the trail toward the light of the Lodge, and gathered around the fire once again to conclude our evening adventure. One hour had passed, but it was a timeless journey for me. One by one we spoke of our personal experience. I noticed how different and individual our experiences were. Mine was about physical exertion and anxiety, as well as an appreciation of the elements. Others told of their senses being awakened. One woman could taste of moisture from the tree branch on her tongue.
It was a full experience, and ended with a good night sleep, well deserved.
Moon Arising in the East
The full moon in Aquarius appeared over Wentzell Lake, outside our living room window. It was beautiful, so full, and one of the largest moons I had every seen. I often enjoy the full moon rising in the East from my condo window in Halifax, but this one was by far extraordinary. I took photos, which didn’t come close to showing its brilliance and size. You had to be there! Oh, the moon’s reflection on the lake was spectacular!”
“You fill up my senses like a night in the forest.
Like the mountains in spring-time
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert
like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again.”
…John Denver.
