We’re excited to share another one of Wendy Weiger’s adventures, told through her beautiful photography and writing. Enjoy! (You can find the original post HERE). 

On the afternoon of February 5, I parked at South Inlet Wilderness Campground, strapped on my snowshoes, buckled into the harness of my gear sled, and headed off across the ice of First Roach Pond toward my off-the-grid cabin. It was a two and a quarter mile trip, breaking trail through recent snowfall as I headed straight into a northwest wind, with wind chills probably hovering around minus 20 Fahrenheit for much of the way. I got to the cabin about an hour after sunset and soon got a roaring fire going in the woodstove. I broke trail to the pump, then pumped and hauled water to fill an assortment of pails and containers. My work done, I settled in to enjoy the warm, bright coziness of the cabin, looking forward to a day of wintry peace and solitude. The photos that follow document a 24-hour period, from sunrise February 6 to sunrise February 7…


The view from my shore toward the west a minute past sunrise, 6:55 AM February 6. The full moon was three days earlier, so on this morning the moon set in the west about an hour after the sun rose in the east. The temperature was minus 14 Fahrenheit. (Because the White Cap range lies just to the east of First Roach Pond, I don’t actually see the sun as it emerges above the horizon, but I’m sometimes blessed with “indirect sunrises” of colors in various directions.)


A view of my woods through ice crystals on the window of my outhouse.


Wind-sculpted snow along my shore. At this time of year, the shore and the frozen surface of First Roach Pond often resemble a miniature desert with “dunes” of snow no more than a few inches high.


Snowshoe hare tracks in my woods. As a hare bounds over the snow, its outsize hindfeet precede its small forefeet in landings poised for the next forward leap. Snowshoe hares need to move fast to survive because there are lots of creatures that want to eat them, from lynx to coyotes to owls.


Sunset viewed through the branches of maple saplings growing from an old beaver dam at the edge of my wetland, 4:40 PM February 6.


The moon over Shaw Mountain, three days past full, viewed from my shore at 9:20 PM on February 6.


And another day begins: the view from my shore toward the southeast at sunrise, 6:53 AM February 7. The dome-shaped mountain toward the left of the photo is West Peak, part of the White Cap range. My day of contemplation was over…it was time to haul more water so I could do the dishes, then split wood to replenish the supply in my cabin before loading my sled for the trek back across the pond.