Kelly Dwyer

And I remember screaming, screaming, screaming for help.

And that's really all I remember.

That's my last memory of that day.

Trees are very symbolic to me because in the winter here, the shadows in February are beautiful, incredible lighting.

It does something different to the bones of the trees.

The deciduous trees, when they've lost their leaves, you can see their skeletal structure.

And I would always look out at that and just marvel.

For about three years prior to 2011, I had started to develop really mysterious physical symptoms.

Slowly over maybe a year, I became really ill.

And this was from someone who was extremely energetic, very strong, determined, very healthy.

And then things just started to slowly deteriorate.

I was struck by how his eyes first looked almost like deep, soulful eyes, but he also was so kind.

And there was just something about him that seemed to be in alignment with how I want to show up, is being kind, to be empathetic, and to be sort of insightful regarding people.

And I remember that day being just brilliant, brilliant sunshine on the snow over the pond.

And I did not have sunglasses.

And trying to look at the glare of the snow, it almost seemed like there was millions of little bright lights that were dancing.

They store or cache their food for the winter near the lodge, not right adjacent to the lodge, but usually about 10 or 12 feet away.

They anchor those large branches into the mud, and I know that there's weak ice around that because of the activity of coming in and out of the lodge.

So I knew to give that area wide berth.

So something must have compelled me to either step forward or step backward off of that.