I know you’re all tired and weary of winter and so I’m writing to let you know that there is hope. If things don’t start thawing out pretty soon, you can call on me.
We had a long bad winter years ago when I was living in a little cabin up in the headwaters of the Tanana River, which is a tributary of the Yukon. Just before the 4th of July with those big flakes still falling I got so disgusted with the situation that I figured I would just have to take matters into my own hands. Something was wrong up there in the sky and I needed to fix it if there was going to be any chance that I was still going to get a garden planted. Getting out the door was and to my tool shed was the first problem- once I managed that I’d had plenty of time to figure a plan to send myself skyward. So I squeezed myself up through the stove-pipe onto the roof (I’d lost considerable weight having not much left to eat but some dried beans those last few months) and proceeded with the plan.
What I needed was a mountain of wood shavings, an old moose hide, about a gallon of water and one match. I tunneled from the cabin roof to the tool-shed and grabbed the sharpest tool I had… a knife I’d fashioned from the bill of one of the smaller mosquitoes that I’d shot while a couple of it’s larger compatriots managed to fly off with the best sled dog that I’d ever had. I sure miss that dog. But I was glad for that skeeter bill blade because it only took me a couple of hours to reduce a couple of hemlock logs I’d been saving to build a sauna, to a mountain of shavings I calculated would give me just the amount of thrust I’d need. I put an old moose hide on top of the pile (that same swarm of mosquitoes that took my dog had drained that poor fellow dry as he was browsing the compost pile and enjoying the last of one of those puny 70 pound cabbages I’d thinned out. Thankfully it all happened so fast I don’t think he had time to suffer)
I figured I might be gone awhile, so I made sure everything in the cabin was ship-shape, grabbed a bucket of water and that one match, climbed to the top of the pile, doused the hide, and used that one match to get a blaze going. I pride myself on never needing more than one match. I read To Build a Fire and it scared me so bad I’ vowed to master the art of fire building and I did. Everything worked out exactly as I planned. The shavings got hot, the water built up a head of steam, the hide thawed, and stretched and exactly two and half minutes later I was trampolined up, just within reach of a particular cloud I’d been studying the past couple of days. To tell the truth, I actually overshot it by a couple of miles, so I guess it was just dumb luck I managed to grab it on the way down.
Well, it was as cold and snowy on that cloud as it was down below, so I wasn’t surprised to find an igloo not far from where I came aboard. But I was surprised to find a hostage situation going on, because there was Old Man Thunder and Lighting bound and gagged by the Snow Queen. This was way before Disney and Frozen- but I’d spent many a winter night reading Hans Christian Anderson Tales and I guess Disney did too, so I knew who I was dealing with and I knew I had to act fast. I still had the skeeter blade in my hand and I knew how to handle it. I kept that cold hearted Queen at Bay just long enough to take a quick swipe at the ropes holding Old Thunder. I cut the bindings clear through and then I shut my eyes and hoped for the best because I didn’t have to guess what was coming.
There was an enormous flashing and crashing, and I knew that Old Man Thunder was throwing down some serious lightning bolts. I also knew it was too high for me to jump free of the cloud. I’d rehearsed this before and it now it was showtime. I wasn’t positive but I figured just like the seventh wave the seventh bolt would be the strongest. They were coming quick so I grabbed on to #7, shut my eyes and before I could even blink them open, there I was on terra firma… except I was just slightly off on my calculations… it was terra, but not quite firma. I splashed down and sunk down up to my chin in the muskeg swamp about a quarter of a mile from my place. There was no wriggling out- I knew that if I even moved I’d be swallowed up alive.
I was only scared for the briefest moment though, because it quickly became apparent to me that I’d succeeded in my mission! Spring was in the air. Irises were blooming and few wild roses were just beginning to unfold. The Sandhill Cranes were flying overhead, and I heard the unmistakable buzz of a hummingbird doing it’s crazy mating U shaped flight. Then off in the distance I saw a couple of Trumpeter Swans flying in my direction. It’s always a thrill to see these majestic birds in the north country, and the feeling must have been mutual because those two lovebirds circled me a couple of times and decided they’d found something sticking out of the swamp just right for building their nest on. Right quick I was sporting a swan nest toupee and not much after that the female laid three eggs and made her self comfortable waiting for them to hatch. Seeing as how I hadn’t thought about bringing along sunscreen or rain gear that nest proved to be a god-send for me… it kept me warm at night, dry in the rain, and protected me from the heat of day.
I’ve always had a keen interest in the life histories of birds and so it was with great anticipation that I awaited the arrival of the brood. I was curious about how long it would take for the birds to fledge after they hatched. But my scientific curiosity soon took a back seat to the more pressing issue of survival. One day when the mother swan was away from the nest, a marauding wolf found the eggs and made short work of them. Hoping to find more, it dug and clawed deeper into the nest and although it was egg shaped, it wasn’t a fourth egg it found, it was my noggin. I shouldn’t have taken it personally, the wolf was just exercising it’s nature, but I got mad, no more than mad, I got furious. Furious at the slaughter of the innocents, and steamed at the impending loss of a piece of my scalp. Back in those days I still had every one of my teeth and I used them all… I clamped down so fast and so hard on Lobo’s tail, he leaped up in surprise and horror and pulled me right along after him and out of the muck. I let go of his tail just as he dashed by my cabin. I found everything there ship-shape just as I’d left it. I can’t tell you how happy I was to be back and to see the forget me nots and wild roses in full bloom, and the mosquito season not yet quite begun.
Ordinarily I don’t tend to talk to much about my accomplishments, I rather modest in tht respect, but in this case I’ve decided to make an exception. I want everyone to know that I still have that moose hide, I still have that skeeter blade, I’ve got a few more dry matches, and if you’ll provide the logs for the shavings and transportation to wherever it is that you sit snow bound and shivering…. I’m at your service.