Cabin Fever

You can only linger on a day that is minute long. The air re-invents itself as, solid, insurmountable defeats. And, wisdom of a mile transforms to glued retreat. It is nothing but cabin fever…at the foot of a rural seat.   In good health, the air is cordial of incredible virtue.  Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration.  I am glad to the brink of fear. Ralph Waldo Emerson     Continue reading Cabin Fever