The snow is a beast and I suppose a burden but I see the beauty in it.
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| Saturday morning looking northwest from the porch to the river. |
The sky is clear, the air is still, the temperature barely above zero.
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| Elliott coming and going. Believe me, he did not go far. |
Saturday afternoon
A walk to the river. Thursday I tried and every third step sunk a foot, maybe two, maybe three. Up to my knees. But today, just a few inches. The snow that sticks to the snowshoes is a lead weight.
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| Looking north across the river. Not my tracks! |
The edge of the river softens, the sun is warm, there is a slight breeze. Temperature in the forties.
Saturday evening
The snow puckers, slides off the roof with great elan, drips, crashes, shrinks, evaporates, recedes, melts, even (maybe) disappears.
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| Saturday evening looking northwest from the porch to the river. |
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