Graveyard, Bell Cedar

The winter storm warnings went back up as a nor'easter dubbed Mars—go figure—came closer to the coast than expected. By early afternoon, it was snowing hard and there were at least several inches of bone-dry powder on the ground. Once I'd finished a deadline writing project, I rewarded myself by piling on the clothing layers, donning my warmest boots, and strapping on my new Yukon Charlie's snowshoes. (How's that for not-so-subtle product placement?) My destination was a favorite trail just up our road, and getting there was a challenge, since the town plows had just been by and there was too much pavement showing. And once I got to the Bell Cedar path, I noticed another problem: too much water due to snowmelt. But if I kept to the very edge of the trail, I was fine, and soon enough, I was on good snowshoeing terrain. Curiously, I discovered I wasn't alone hiking through the storm, for there were other tracks, quite recent, made by someone and a dog. I didn't, however, run into any other signs of life, and when I stopped to view the graveyard-in-the-woods—a favorite sight—I found myself completely alone.