When despair grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry, The Peace of Wild Things
While South Dakota may not be a place associated with Spring Break, that is where my best friend, Mary, and I found ourselves last week for a whirlwind couple of days in the Black Hills and the Badlands. And even though it was freezing—and let me tell you, it was freezing—it was an unforgettable experience.
Read MoreThat brings us to this message that popped up on my phone last weekend: the forecast for my first Minnesota blizzard. And folks, it was a good one. As promised, it snowed bucketfuls overnight Sunday into Monday. Before I fell asleep, MSU called off classes for Monday for severe weather conditions (whiteouts are no joke). When I awoke, everything outside my window was a blindingly bright pure white. The roads were untouched, yards blanketed in smooth marshmallow fluff—that oddly satisfying vision of unblemished perfection.
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