There is nobody on the trail, no cars at the trailhead. Snow remains in the shaded woods. The stream up the valley is frozen.

I climb a ridge, towards rock formations I can see at the summit. I am hot and sweating despite the cold when I come across one level spot to set up my tent.

For the next two days I don't leave, just stand on the cliffs and look.

Or sit next to the fire and listen, to the wind gusting through the pines, to the silence when it is still.

And try to understand the ancient rhythms my border collie pays attention to, the mystery he innately knows, but which I can barely sense.

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“Wherever you go, go with all your heart"