It is early in the morning and the temperature is in the low 20s outside. Some distance away is a  stream I walked beside earlier in the year. Perhaps it is frozen on this morning.

Here at the cabin, in the background water drips to keep the pipes from freezing while the fire burns in the wood stove. Waking up and going back to sleep to add wood to the fire is no longer the issue it was a decade ago.

Deer are on the move outside, as are the coyotes. The next door neighbor has added zebras to the mix of animals within his high fence and somewhere in the heavens a human-built machine now resides on the surface of a comet.

Frosty the dog is thoroughly enjoying his morning walks in the cold weather, as do I this time of the year, although I'm sure by the end of winter I won't feel the same way about the cold. Leave it to a human being to wish for summer in winter and winter in summer.

The leaves on the hickory trees are changing color but have not displayed the brilliant gold they sometimes do. Dry stream beds are filling with dead leaves from the oaks and the mosquitos are finally gone as are most of the flies, the latter of which the cattle seem grateful for.

The music of John Denver plays on the surround system from another room, from another time (who says time travel isn’t possible). 

Sometimes it’s difficult to find the key to the lock that is happiness in life. Perhaps the key is recognizing there was never a lock in the first place anywhere but in the brain that imagined it.