After a morning track practice, I visited the local state park. I have been there once before, in the early fall and wished to see its face in winter. There are small falls less than a half mile hike from the station. In warmer weather, the stream cascades like a curtain over a limestone wall. The sandstone underneath erodes away, eventually degrading the integrity of the limestone above it, which breaks off to form an vertical cut. Like the Minnehaha falls, they were frozen, but water continued to move underneath. Besides this trail, the northern section of the park was closed to hikers -- the trails have been groomed for skiers. The southern section, meanwhile, has been groomed for snowmobiles and makes a smooth path for those on foot. A small stretch was reserved for hikers and snowshoers, and the footing there was rough, and brushed by sinkholes. It was in the lower teens, perhaps 10 degrees today, and I wore many layers. The cold remained with me afterwards.

     The trees, many of them tall and long-standing, were like spears in the snow. I went just after midday, and I appreciated the sun hanging in its descending gait, peeking through the boughs at my progress. Overall, however, the light in winter appears always coldy clear, yet somehow lessened. The shadows spread far, and followed the contours of their canvas. Although we experienced brief above-freezing temperatures, there remains considerable snow on the ground; it was laid out like an unbroken blanket, rolling, and smoothing the forest floor. There were numerous lines of animal tracks, dotting across its surface -- squirrels, it would seem, deer, and perhaps fox (judging by droppings). The snow betrays their paths, and I wondered at their goals as they left them. I found many small, sheltered niches beneath fallen trees, with scant dirt patches, and often the remains of acorns. The distribution of deer tracks was curious -- for stretches there would be only lonely strings, and yet at other places the snow was littered with dense patches of prints.  I saw only one deer itself, a dark grayish sort, and somewhat weighty as it bounded away on the other side of a fence of trunks. I also saw a large wood pecker, high up and thudding away on the lonely length of a tree. It was quiet, and the sound of its work echoed, and responded. The crunch of the snow was loud under my boots, but should I stop, I could hear the trickle of a stream, or the crack of wood above. There was one pair of snow mobilers about. I encountered them once, and the challenge of their motors resounded overpoweringly -- and alien. In fact, it unnerved me, in the same way, I can only imagine, the inhabitants are unnerved by something so contrasting. Towards the end, I began to succumb to the cold, my fingers especially, and so I picked up the pace. Nevertheless, I completed the +four mile loop, starting close to 2 and emerging some hour and a half later. I wished, as I went, that I had skis so that I would not intrude so noisily over the snow. But I was glad, nonetheless, for the stillness -- and the activity that is only hinted.

Today I encountered a disheartening opinion. It begins with a topic which has grown in frustration for me, before turning to the disheartening matter itself. Speaking with a fellow student worker, the subject came up that I do not eat meat. I was asked why (as usual). Personally, I have a number of reasons, which I grow tired of defending. I do not ask those who consume meat the reasons for that decision, or to justify themselves -- despite the fact that the consumption of meat is in fact far more unsustainable and in any case, it is worthwhile no matter what you eat to understand why you do so. Yet I find continuously that I must justify myself. My honest response in these cases would be that I feel I should not need to justify myself. I have made a decision, one that was guided by deep thought and consideration regarding all the advantages and disadvantages. It is a decision that I stand by. Thus, I fail to see how it is acceptable to ask me, as a vegetarian, why I do not eat meat, when at the same time it is unacceptable, even intrusive, to ask a smoker why they smoke -- regardless that the smoker harms themselves, and those around them. Meanwhile, I am making a conscious, educated decision to go without a foodstuff that is for me unnecessary, and come to judgment.

That answer, of course, is not the one I provide in response to inquiry. Although I find it irritating, the inevitable response of 'why?' 'how come?' or 'what made you decide that?' to the devulging of my eating preferences, -- that is, when I am cast beneath a disapproving eye for such a decision -- I do not begrudge those who ask with genuine curiosity; I am happy to answer their questions. And to them, I say this. Firstly, meat is not a necessary part of my common diet. In other words, I can find other sources of protein, iron, and other nutrients. When I was younger, I never sought meat overmuch, and so found it natural to quit it as I came under control of my own. Certainly, meat is a powerful energy source, and one that can be useful to the human diet. I would be a fool to say otherwise. It has its uses, and there are undoubtedly people for whom it is advisable to consume. But for me personally, it is not the only option. Not eating meat means that I must be conscious of my choices, and insure that I am consuming all that my body needs to function well, and healthily without meat, yet so long as I am capable I choose to go without it. Secondly, it is not environmentally sound, or morally sound, for me to continue consuming something that I do not need, and that is not sustainable. Methane emissions from beef production -- and dairy -- as well as the negative impacts of massive numbers livestock  for other meats (pigs, fowl, etc.) are a serious problem facing our future, and I do not wish to contribute to that demand. That being said, if all meat was hunted sustainably, if meat was produced locally at small scales, and garnered in a manner that was uncruel and used responsibly, I would find it difficult to object to meat consumption. Moderation is key. After all, carnivorousness is a common strategy for other animals. Yet the fact remains: for those animals, there is no other option -- the wolf's strategy in life requires prey; my strategy in life does not. It may be time to pose the question instead 'why do you eat meat?' I know my reasons; do you know yours?

And now we approach the disheartening matter itself. Many have contended my environmental reasons for not eating meat; often the argument's of my opponents are ones that I have considered, myself. The production of soybeans, for example, is just as environmentally irresponsible as meat when performed on a large scale monoculture, with herbicides and pesticides, yet is a staple for many vegetarians. However, you cannot replace meat solely by tofu, and secondly, here again I call upon moderation. Replacing meat with tofu is not a solution, and should not be used to contend me. Today, my fellow student worker disagreed with my environmental motivations, but I was dismayed to learn that it was not for the reason I anticipated. Apparently, climate change is a farce -- a scheme whereby environmentalists aim to make a profit. Clearly, he told me when I objected, Al Gore is making millions from the endeavor. Al Gore aside, it has been a long time since I encountered such an opinion. I had hoped that, at a place of learning, my fellow students would take it upon themselves to investigate the truth of all matters. If this student had done so, he would quickly learn that, for those truly concerned for our world, a personal profit should be far from their goals. This is indeed the case. To be dirt poor, and yet see the environmental soundness of this planet, I would be forever content. Climate change is a very real thing, and although there have been natural fluctuations in the history of the planet, it is undeniable that this change in atmospheric composition stems from our industrial activity. I had no other answer to him, other than this: seek truths, before you accept heresay. See for yourself, and the truth is obvious. I have done the research, I have seen -- and participated -- in the science. But you do not need to be a scientist to read a graph, nor to understand that, climate change or not, our society is unsustainable and ultimately damaging. A change must be made. Fossil fuels are not the option, and we must take responsibility, however challenging, frightening, or uncomfortable the weight of that responsibility may be. Delude yourself at the expense of yourself, not at the expense of the planet.

I went for a walk with my father, around Lake Harriet. It was in the single digits (7-9), and very cold on the east side of the lake. Apparently the wind was from the west -shifting between the northwest and southwest. It picked up icy snow from the lake and paths, and swept it into the air like white sand. My cheeks were quite cold. It is spectacular, that in Minnesota the weather can change so quickly, and so normally. In Minnesota, I feel that you must take every day as its own. Once we reached the more wooded stretch, where we were sheltered from the wind, it was not as raw. What always strikes me about the winter is the quiet, the solitude of it. Watching the sun however just above the bare tree tops, there is a feeling of intimate isolation -- even when there are others in sight, such as the icefishermen. When we had nearly rounded the entire lake, I walked out a little ways onto the lake ice. It is an amazing feeling, that with one step one can be engulfed by peace. The first step I took into the pure-white, layer of unbroken, undisturbed snow on the lake was one such step. I watched the tiny grains shiff across the surface, and around my feet, and looked out across the emptiness of the lake. It was cold, and it was wonderful.