It rained most of the day.

Reminded me of home. Superior, Wi has weather very similar to Seattle. Maybe worse. We got much, much worse winters.

Although, there's something to be said for those sunny, below zero days in February, when the snow on the swamp is hard enough for a big guy like me to walk on like pavement. You get to look at things that the muck and the mosquitoes usually drive you away from. Unfortunately, those days all look gray and white in all the pictures I've tried to take. I'm afraid the pleasure I've taken in them cannot be shared vicariously.

Well, let me try.

The air is clear, clean, still and cold. You're dressed warm - in long-johns, undershirt, jeans, t-shirt, flannel shirt, a snow-mobile suit and gloves, thermal socks, boots, hunting hat.

The cold isn't a problem beyond your nose, lips and cheeks. When it starts to settle in somewhere, you walk a little faster. Sometimes you need to close your eyes and face the sun directly. It's always amazing how much that helps.

There are no natural barriers to any part of the property, so you examine every square foot of the swamp, the deepest woods. It's not deer season, so you wander onto the neighbors' land. None of them mind hikers. Or, if they do, they'll let you know.

I'm trying to express a feeling of freedom, I guess. Freedom from the usual natural constraints. On those days, you were allowed several square miles of free roaming. Of course, the list of winter-wear needed comprises another sort of natural constraint, but this comprises my notion of freedom.

The spring brings another kind of freedom. The Little Amnicon River always overflowed in the spring. It washed out the road about every other year. Unfortunately, we lived on the school side of the river, so we never got a day off because of it. Nor did anyone else, due to the course it meandered.

The beavers were always blocking it up on our property as I was growing up, hence the swamp. They moved across the road when we sold the house to my uncle Dave (an Oklahoman, who got into 'sailing' because of my Dad). There's only a chronological relationship there, not a causal one. Beavers are what they are. We didn't feel any need to change them, though the DNR did, once or twice.

But those are the natural restrictions. The natural freedoms are mostly related to the clothing. I still take advantage of that first opportunity to run around the yard barefoot and to work or play for hours outdoors in shorts. As I get older, I find I have to push harder to pretend to be working, but work and play sort of run together now. They're both outdoor activities. But of course I have the little girls now, so I also have an excuse to play.

"Look at that old, grey-bearded Grandpa out playing with the kids!"

That's my advice on how to enjoy life.