This looks a little like our land in Prospect, Maine. I moved up there with 4 other people. We all left eventually, within a year or after 40. One of the guys moved back & one lives there in the summer. We used to say "summer people—and some aren't."
I first typed his name Birchfield.
We got a lovely quick dusting this morning. Lots more next week, according to Willis, the source of all my hope & information.
One time, the first winter I lived in the woods in Maine, Rick & I went for a hike on our property, in a snowstorm—one of those soft, incesssant, anarchic snowstorms that are the reason I like snow so much. We walked through the birches & firs, & didn't get lost, & when we got back to the main house, Sherri had made soup & bread.