With an ax in his other hand, after closing the cabin door, Van took my hand, our mittens wrapping around one another’s grip. My total experience around the area of the cabin was limited to the journey to and from the truck and to and from the outhouse. This time, we headed into the forest, our boots sinking in the deep snow.

“They’re all so tall,” I said, looking up through the big trees to the blue sky above. I wasn’t only speaking of the pine trees, but also deciduous trees such as the white birch whose white trunks highlighted the landscape.

“There are places on my land where I’ve planted saplings,” Van said. “I’m hoping at least one will still be small enough.”

“You planted trees? There weren’t enough?”

Van grinned, looking down at me with pink cheeks from the cold. “There’s never enough.”

“Oh,” I said with a shake of my head. “I forgot.”

“When I decided to live here, I purchased multiple five- and ten-acre lots. Many had structures. Some were willing to sell, others needed convincing. I had most of the structures demolished. Those spaces then needed trees.”

“How did you convince people to leave their homes?”

“Everything has a price.”

I gave that some thought as we trudged forward. “You didn’t want any other buildings?”

“I kept a few, but nothing I chose to keep is too close to the house.”

Taking a deep breath of cool air, I stilled. “You know, I think I’m in pretty good shape.”

“I think you’re in fantastic shape.”

“Then why is walking through this snow wearing me out?”

Van laughed. “Just wait until we have to drag the tree.”

“I think we should have considered cross-country skis.”

“We should have. A snowmobile would have been a good idea too.” He grinned as his words came out in vapor puffs. “Next time.”

Those words were so simple and yet held more meaning than I could comprehend.

Next time inferred there would be more times like this, more times with the two of us and adventure. It was unfamiliar to me to imagine spending so much time alone, only the two of us. Skylar was all about appearances. Together meant out to eat at one of Chicago’s finer restaurants, the symphony, or the philharmonic, where we were going the night I walked out on him.

Van’s and my journey continued for another fifteen to twenty minutes, at times walking through knee- and thigh-high accumulations of snow. The good news was that due to the excessive cold temperatures, the snow was basically powder and easier to be displaced than heavier snow farther south. Cresting a hill, I saw what Van had described. The giant pine trees were gone, replaced by smaller ones.