There’s eight inches of snow on the ground with another four expected as the snow is continuing to fall. The roads are slushy, snowy, slippery and dangerous. Work called a snow day – stay home, stay safe.
The wind periodically gusts blowing the snow sideways, driving it to the ground creating a gauzy white curtain of low visibility. Then it quiets. The flakes are free to find their own way to the ground; meandering, falling, rising slightly, floating, taking their time to find the ground. All is white and silent. A blanket of snow usually muffles the sounds of our hustle and bustle. But today, with so many heading the weatherman’s advice, there is also little activity to hush.
The wind periodically gusts blowing the snow sideways, driving it to the ground creating a gauzy white curtain of low visibility. Then it quiets. The flakes are free to find their own way to the ground; meandering, falling, rising slightly, floating, taking their time to find the ground. All is white and silent. A blanket of snow usually muffles the sounds of our hustle and bustle. But today, with so many heading the weatherman’s advice, there is also little activity to hush.

I filled the bird feeders with sunflower seeds and peanuts, they’ll need their energy today. Then I strapped on my snowshoes and headed out the back door into the white. Bridger led the way, bounding gleefully through snow almost up to his belly. We’re the first ones out today, the only tracks in the snow, save for an occasional hungry, brave squirrel. It’s perfect solitude.
The snow tapered off and stopped as I walked. I’d forgotten the work it takes to move through heavy snow this way. Chickadees and sparrows are calling. In the distance, I hear a melodious song that isn’t familiar. It sounds like spring. It doesn’t look like spring.
My snowshoes compress the snow in a soft “whomp” with each step, absent the high-pitched squeak of the bitter cold snow. A breeze picks up and I hear a soft swoosh as it sweeps through the treetops like a gentle ocean wave. As the wind intensifies, the tall elms begin to sway, squeaking against each other chattering like dolphins.
A set of cross country ski tracks breaks my solitude. But they are not fresh, I am still out here alone. Whoever left these tracks was here much earlier this morning. I’m delighted to know that others come here to share in the peace of this place. In knowing, there is caring. And in caring, there is conservation. We’re sharing these woods just the same.
He finds his own enjoyment out here, part in the running and part in the finding. No matter where he roams, he’s always keeping an eye on me.
There’s no better way to spend a snow day.

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So glad you have the opportunity to enjoy nature as you do. Good for the Soul. And again, thanks for sharing.