It’s cold. The sky is gray. My boots squeak on the packed snow of the path. There are icy patches that threaten to sweep me off my feet. When the wind picks up, trees knock together and little puffs of snow tumble from their branches. My fingers are numb inside my gloves and I tuck them into my palms to try to get some feeling back. I cradle the camera like an infant so my hands don’t have to touch its cold frame. Here and there, a little bird moves in the bushes. Even colder weather and lots of snow is in the forecast. I wonder if the critters can tell it’s coming. I hope they will find shelter.
It begins to snow. At first, tiny flakes sift through the branches. They intensify and big flakes fall fast; Chuck and I are quickly covered in a blanket of snow. Chuck dances in circles at looks back at me, asking me to acknowledge her excitement. She gets so silly and it makes me smile. I see a couple squirrels perched on branches and pressed against the trunks of trees. They are so cute – their red fur gathers white snowflakes and the contrast is beautiful. But, I can’t bring myself to take my gloves off to take a photo and I’m worried that the camera is getting wet. I tuck it inside my coat.
Despite the cold, I feel lucky to experience this winter landscape. I think about people who live on tropic isles. Many may never experience anything like it. I imagine they romanticize the snow. It is rather romantic, actually, but the woods on winter days are not for the faint of heart. We will need a lot of fortitude in the coming days. Chuck will accept no excuses. It’s a good thing I love a wild storm!
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