Like the snow-covered fields of Carson Valley during this New Year's season the coming year is blank, white, untrammeled by man or beast. No footprints have crossed that field, though we can see where they stopped at its edge.
We're all going to cross that field, the snow will melt, the grass will turn green and grow. Waters that are frozen now will awake and burble, filled with life. Creatures that sleep beneath the frozen white blanket will rise once more.
The year 2012 will be infamous for its impending sense of doom.
Elections, Mayan calendars and fiscal cliffs aside, …