John Pepin, Michigan Department of Natural Resources

A wintry wind blew the snow in, and it piled up rather quickly.

I had been busy working in my study/studio and had my head down with my nose to the grindstone. When I am concentrating on something, time whips by.

I only noticed the weather outside when I would make occasional trips to the kitchen for a drink or a handful of something to snack on.

The first time I had looked out the windows, the snow that fell overnight only measured an inch or so. It had settled in an even layer atop the picnic table and the roofs of the bird feeders.

But now, only an hour or two later, the depth of the snow covering everything measured more than half a foot. The openings of the seed and suet bird feeders were covered with soft, fresh snow.

After an hour or so, when I filled my hand with another pile of salted peanuts, the snow was almost a foot deep.

It’s like nature noticed that the calendar had switched over to December and decided it was time to bring the snow to make things pretty and respectably seasonal for the holidays.

The deer seemed to be hip to the calendar too.

Seeing deer in our yard is a common occurrence. We have been visited most often this autumn by a doe and two fawns born this past spring. I had also seen a buck and two does in early November.

But I hadn’t seen any deer around our yard since about mid-November.

Then, on the first day of December — which is the first day after the firearm deer hunting season ends — I opened the door to see the doe and two fawns, along with another young deer, nipping at the cedar tree branches along our driveway.

It was if they had been in hiding for the two weeks of hunting season, but knew it was now safe to come out again. They even seemed to be grinning.

With the snow comes my desire to sit around a roaring campfire. I love to smell the wood smoke as it swirls slowly into the cold and starry skies. I also enjoy tending the fire, keeping it going strong and watching the flames.A campfire anytime of the year is a special thing — a treat — like a dish of ice cream or a piece of pie. But a fire in the wintertime is especially special. I like it best at night when everything around quiets down and (I can hear the) cracking and spitting sounds of the fire. …”

I remember that as a kid this time of year was packed with anticipation with the kiddom Christmas countdown already underway.

We had received the big, thick store catalogs in the mail weeks ago and all four of us kids had used ballpoint pens to circle or dog ear page numbers where mom and dad could find all the things we hoped to receive as Christmas gifts.

For me, that usually meant things like Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars, Nancy Drew or nature books, electric football and other games and scenic jigsaw puzzles.

I would also be excited for sugar Christmas cookies with frosting or sparkles, peanut butter cookies in holiday shapes and candies we’d have around the house, like cherry cordials and mixed chocolates.

Sometimes it felt as though the anticipation was almost too much to take.

I would have trouble sleeping and often found myself sneaking downstairs to turn a late-night movie on with the television volume down to a just barely audible level.

These days, I still might have trouble sleeping some nights, but I am no longer almost seething with anticipation for Christmastime as I was as a young kid.

Like a lot of people, especially recently, I feel like something substantial and consequential is about to happen, but I don’t know what.

It feels like gigantic event is about to occur, like some dramatic and vital truth is about to be revealed to the entire world – flashing and shining instantly across the oceans and the continents.

Some say world governments are preparing their populaces for grand revelations about unidentified aerial phenomena or the existence of creatures from other galaxies among us here on earth.

Others suggest our lives are merely a simulation, with strange cracks and wrinkles evident to those who are observant, or that we also exist in other dimensions or parallel universes.

Still others fear a coming of ominous events, like the breakdown of democratic societies, a horrific climate reckoning, global nuclear war or something worse as-yet unknown.

I don’t know what is going on

But it does indeed feel as though the world is spinning a lot faster over the past few months, like everything might slip off the axis and go spinning into space, maybe breaking into a billion bits.

There are all kinds of creepy signs, enigmatic warnings and weird prognostications that a person can find all over the place without looking too far.

Fear seems rampant and the truth that still exists remains elusive.

I continue to believe that nature holds the keys, the cures and the answers for those who are searching for it. But detecting, discerning and absorbing those truths can sometimes be difficult to do.

For me, it’s likely a case of not being able to get out of my own way.

Even if I am not speaking, my mind may be screeching like a braking freight train with countless thoughts firing off in every direction that I may miss something nature is trying to tell me.

This is probably especially true when it comes to the finer points of nature’s teachings.

I find that I learn the most and come away feeling the most fulfilled by the natural world when I go into it with as clear a mind possible, relaxed and not expecting or anticipating anything particular to happen.

It always works best for me to simply show up, resist my human tendencies to speak or think and just use my senses to the best of my ability to observe, listen and learn.

If I can simply sit and take deep breaths of clean, cool air, the decompression begins to flow through and out of me. Soothing and healing begin to occur.

If I don’t seize the opportunities I have to get outdoors, I often regret my inaction as stress, depression and anxiety often then become my familiar companions.

So, it’s to the woods.

The snow on the ground is the soft, instant mashed potato flakes kind that piles up fast, but compacts slowly.

It’s easy for walking in and it seems to exemplify the conditions I often think of as optimum for wintertime, cold, with deep snow and clear skies.

The tracks of deer are visible through the snow across the yard. They are walking in a following line, like a nodding donkey train.

The nighttime temperature is in the mid-teens and the sound of trees cracking and groaning is heard from the hardwood stand. Like their elderly human counterparts, those tall trees that have stood for many decades must feel a few extra pains when the cold-night winds blow.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, my brother and I assembled and filled a wood rack that now stands behind our fire pit in the backyard. I plan to make a nice campfire out there as soon as possible.

I think sitting around a campfire lends itself simultaneously to contemplation and the type of clearing of the mind, body and spirit I mentioned earlier, the kind that allows me to imbue myself with nature’s dark and satisfying ink.

Mind, body and soul all seem at peace around a campfire.

With enough time and a blanket, a person can find themselves drifting off to sleep.

Maybe to even dream about Christmastime cookies or the glorious displays of colored lights, perhaps even waking with a childhood sense of optimism, anticipation and innocence to face the coming days with blind wonder, faith and hope.

The rivers are still rolling and tumbling, while the forests are still enchanting, the birds and woodland creatures are filled with secrets and the hills and rocks hold stores of wisdom as vast as the oceans.

I need to approach with reverence, prepared to receive the gifts and teachings that remain there in seemingly endless supply.

My anxiety and despair and those knots of stress that I’ve undone and slipped are the only things I’ll leave behind me when I return home, those things and my lonesome boot prints in the freshly fallen snow.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Outdoors North is a weekly column produced by the Michigan Department of Natural Resources on a wide range of topics important to those who enjoy and appreciate Michigan’s world-class natural resources of the Upper Peninsula.