Bit by bit, our farm came back to life this morning. The animals went out to the back pasture to try to graze (good luck), the sun came out, the sun came out, the wind stopped making our house creak, the power stayed on, we just missed most of the snow, and the temperature soared to a balmy 14 degrees.

We slept through the night in our deep freeze bedroom; it was warm under the covers, the wind was mighty, eerie, and beautiful.

The roads are clear and driveable. I checked on my two garden beds, covered in soil, cardboard, and bricks. I’m eager for May, I have seeds coming from all over the place.

Maria and I are going to the movies this afternoon to see the animated documentary Flee, the story of a young afghan boy who fled Afghanistan after his father was murdered and emigrated to Denmark and then to the United States.

It sounds like a beautiful, wrenching, and ultimately uplifting movie. The story of the immigrants are getting lost in all of the politics. It’s an art movie, in just a few theaters and not yet streaming anywhere.

If I have anything of meaning to say about it, I’ll review the movie. It’s our first time out of the house in a couple of days, and we’re eager to get out. We’ll eat dinner at a Japanese restaurant in Williamstown, Mass.

For the first time in days, the chickens came out too—a sense of liberation on the farm. The chickens love to hang out underneath the bird feeder, they peck away at the birdseed that falls to the ground. An easy meal in the cold and ice.