October Storm

We’ve been smashed pretty good by the Nor’easter Storm that just hit the Northeast. We haven’t had power since 1 AM. It will be a bit until we have power again

I love this type of adventure. I won’t be able participate on social media, but will be having a hell of a time, happily.

Cheers everyone!

Matt

 

To the Mountains!

We’re going on an adventure! We’ll be traveling up north and to the coast. We’ll drive into the mountains and spit out near the ocean. It’ll take a number of hours and that’s fine with us! Gavin is a great 3.5 year-old adventurer. He looks for werewolves and dinosaurs in the forest as we drive.

We’ll be arriving and staying at a remote location where there is very little communication. It’s in these settings that sometimes I am lucky enough to nab beautiful photographs. I’m not a photographer by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s hard not to snap something gorgeous when the terrain surrounding you is stunning and without manipulation.

Wish us luck. Megan, Gavin, and I are on the tail end of a stomach virus. It’s been rough lol, so this ride might prove a bit interesting 🙂

Cheers everyone and please try and have a blast today.

Matt

 

 

Turkey Day

I woke up this morning. I’m enjoying that.
It’s single digits outside with plenty of snow on the ground.
Maine is in full-blown winter this Thanksgiving and my wife
and I plan on taking advantage of the snow covered views. We’ll bundle
Gavin in layers, top him off with his one-eyed monster hat, and
drive into the mountains. We’ll look deep into the forest and look for
Yeti, or possibly listen for Pteranodons following us from above. Gavin
will alert us if T-Rex is chasing the truck, somehow though, we’ll all escape
and continue on while letting our itching imaginations swell until the
next chapter. And eventually we’ll drive home and smile our way into the afternoon.
There will be a meal and I’ll certainly be giving thanks, as I do, as often as I can. It wasn’t
long ago when I spent Holidays alone talking with my four walls. There wasn’t a one-eyed monster hat to place on top of a blue-eyed boy. There wasn’t the incredibly beautiful, warm-hearted, intelligent and strong woman that I stand with now.
Somehow I keep waking up and they’re still there.

Happy Thanksgiving

Matt

odd walking thoughts – time

The brook rambled on. Pushing forward, begging the boy to continue. The boy wanted to adventure further. Though the sun had started to dip just below the tree line, he wasn’t afraid. He wondered if he had enough time. The boy listened to a voice whisper from above. ‘If we placed time into a bucket with water and soap, what do you believe might happen to the bubbles? Two options. The bubbles would become gone instantaneously because time would have run out. Or, the bubbles would last forever because time granted it so.’ The boy didn’t move. Heart pounding thinking of time. ‘What if I move now? What will happen?’  -M. Taggart copyright 2017

An Alive Blizzard – Short Story

An Alive Blizzard, A short story

Written by -M. Taggart
Fiction. Copyright 2017

 

It was snowing. The snow had started earlier than they said it would. I had asked my father about the storm and why it was different from other storms. Dad had said to mom that it might be a Blizzard. I didn’t know what Blizzard meant but I felt it. I felt it deep in my chest when Dad said it.

I saw from our window sill that already the snow covered the roads and sidewalks. Tree branches were beginning to become white. The birds were chirping loudly. I watched as they seemingly bounced from branch to branch. I wondered if they knew about the Blizzard.

Dad had told me it was going to be a Nor’ Easter. He said it was a true one. Not like the clippers that rush off the coastline quickly. He said a true Nor’ Easter doesn’t rush. It sits. It spins. He said it was even alive.

I looked out the window at the darkening woods. The sun wasn’t yet down, but the woods didn’t care. They were preparing to become pitch black. I didn’t want to be in the woods. Normally I’d be the first out the door and rushing to find an evergreen to climb under. Their branches were always soft and the bottom row would be connected to the ground. Snow would pin each branch and you could carve a hole through the snow and hide inside the bottom of the tree. If you did this without anyone seeing you, you could hide there all night and you wouldn’t be found. But not tonight. Not with the Blizzard being alive and the woods being alive and me right in the middle of both.

‘What are you doing, Nick?’ his father asked.

‘Watching snow.’

‘And what are you thinking?’

‘I’m thinking about snow forts under the evergreens.’

He wanted to ask his father about the Blizzard being alive. How he would know when it was alive, and what might happen.

‘What do you mean the storm will stop and spin?’ he asked his father.

‘A real Nor’Easter will crawl up the coast. It’ll aim at all of us in New England. Pressure from the north, Canada, will blow toward the system crawling up the coast. The real ones will stop and spin when the pressure from the north hits it. Instead of rushing out to sea, the storm system will press slightly north west. The pressure from the North sits it down, right over us, and it’ll spin like a Hurricane. The longer it sits and spins, the more snow we’ll get. And sometimes the two hit so hard it’s as if their fighting and the wind will drive and the snow will drift and before you know it you can’t see more than a few feet and it’s not safe to be outside. Because you’re in a real Nor’ Easter. A Blizzard.’

I set my eyes on the tallest of pine trees that I could see from the window. The top of the tree was moving, but only barely. The winds were not yet fighting. Maybe there would be no Blizzard tonight. But if it was alive, when does it decide to turn itself into a Blizzard?

‘Is this storm a Blizzard?’

‘It’s too early to tell. We can watch it on the radar and if we see it turn inland a bit, we can watch out the window, or go outside and listen to the wind. We’ll be able to hear it churning and getting stronger.’

My heart dropped. I did not want to go outside and listen for anything to churn. Many inches were already on the ground. And yes, now I see some wind pushing the top of the pine tree.

‘How can a storm be anything but a storm? It can’t be alive.’

My father rested his hands behind his head. He smirked, took a pull from his beer and said, ‘But it can. Did you know tornadoes suck dirt and grime and bacteria into its funnel cloud? And you know bacteria is alive. Bacteria clings to mud and dirt and particles so small we can’t see them. Think about it. Snow is developed high in the sky. First as droplets of moisture. But, it’s not yet snow. It’s to light to fall. It needs something heavier to help it drop. Something like dust. Dust just floating around hoping to hitch a ride back down to earth. The moisture clings to the dust and they both start to fall, together. Eventually turning into a snow flake. You tell me that dust doesn’t have bacteria and you tell me that a storm isn’t alive.’ His father took another small pull and smiled wide. ‘Don’t break yourself over this. It is just a storm. But every storm has a personality. You just watch.’

I held my questions. I needed to catch my thoughts and sit them down. I still didn’t understand what a Blizzard was, but now I knew what a Nor’ Easter is and thoughts of bashing winds, like that of a Hurricane, flicked through my mind. I had heard that a tornado sounded much like a train when approaching. Was that the voice of the tornado? If it was, what would the voice of a Nor’ Easter turned Blizzard sound like? Would it scream? Could it speak? What if I did go out into the woods tonight and let the Blizzard overtake me. Should I? I felt the wrinkles in my forehead pressing together. My face was a twisted and confused face. I didn’t even know if it would be a Blizzard, though somehow I felt it couldn’t be anything else.

An hour later everything changed. The wind was howling. Snow flew sideways and whipped by the window so quickly it was dizzying. My father had to go check on the roof of our garage and hadn’t come back yet. The woods were pitch black and no longer needed to prepare; rather I’m sure now the woods were completely alive and begging me to visit. Over a foot of snow had fallen and the storm was still new. I did everything to not listen for a voice in the howls, but it was too late. I told myself to not put my boots on. As I looked at my feet I saw my boots were laced. I asked myself to not put my coat, hat, or gloves on. I turned the door-nob with a gloved hand.

It was cold. Very cold and the wind was so thick and crisp it rushed into my lungs without permission. Wind pressed me so hard I was doubled over while walking. I didn’t need to see where I was going. I knew the wood line even in the darkest of nights. Instead of asking why, I simply kept going. It was too late to ask and to early to reflect. I knew only one thing. The storm was alive and I wanted to know it well.

 

**

Thank you for reading. If you’d like to read more of my writing, please consider my short story found via the link below.

https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

 

 

 

 

 

The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost, 1874 – 1963

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the ones less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost

While driving back roads in New England I often think of the second to last line, ‘I took the one less traveled by,’ and smile as I turn down a dirt road I do not know. And now, with Gavin and Megan, we are getting to know the back roads of Maine. We’ve just begun and my heart sings to learn where every one of them go.
If interested please view my self published short story.
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

New England Winter

New England Winter. February, 2015.

This past winter was memorable. While visiting family in Maine, Megan and I decided to take a drive during a snow storm. I’d much rather adventure in a blizzard then sit comfortably while watching it from a window.

One of the back roads had a high snowbank. We stopped the vehicle and I got out and started to climb. Megan took the picture. I didn’t think much of the picture at the time.  Now though, I enjoy it very much.

Maine Road

On the other side of the banking is a large field. It was cold and very dark.