142. N.J.

I'm going to do something today I rarely do on any of my three blogs. For once, I'm going to be personal.

These days, it's hard to keep my thoughts out of New Jersey. You see, I've got family there, and what they've been through this last week seems like a chapter from the Old Testament.

First, my cousin Sig died, which I've been trying to write about for over a week now. His death was not a big surprise, but that didn't make it less sad. I've talked about him before - a real woodsman, and the greatest archer I've ever met. Sigmund also had a seemingly endless supply of stories and jokes. That's one of the things I think will stick with me the longest, his infectious laughter - and the fact that I'll never hear it again.

There were stories of his days as a cowboy in the Rockies, and hippie in California. He loved comics,  and was into Native American philosophy... Let's just say we had quite a few interesting conversations - people have to disagree for it to be a discussion.

 Sig and me at a family reunion in 2001. Photo by Monica Nilsen.

He also told me of the dark times and thoughts since the horrible skiing accident which, among other bad things, placed him in the wheelchair. But we all have dark times, he just had better reasons for having them.

But the lack of working legs never kept him away from the Jersey forests, and its abundance of game. It didn't stop him from developing his archery skills to something which would have made Robin Hood shake in his boots.

There is one thing we're all thankful for. Sig got to spend his last couple of days doing what he loved, hunting, with his good friend and cousin, my brother Egil.

So, finally. after thinking that now a few days have passed, and it has to get easier for my Aunt and Uncle and the girls. It's over. Sig doesn't have to feel pain anymore, his brave struggle is over.

There's peace.

And then Sandy hits the Jersey shore. My family lose power, phone, Internet...

I've seen pictures taken by my cousin Mary-Ann, where many of the large trees surrounding their house has been blown to the ground, and large herds of deer grass on their lawn, with wild turkeys right behind them. As if saying goodbye to the hunter who once lived there.

See also: SAFARI IN THE STICKS.