Last Sunday, it rained all day. I can walk happily in falling snow, and even in sleet or freezing rain. But regular rain dropping on snowy ground makes for a miserably sloshy experience, so I stayed in and crocheted and watched the makings of a giant ice rink form in the driveway. (At this time of year, when the ground is frozen, rain simply pools and turns to ice once the temperatures drop at night.)
A few almost-spring-like days followed, with pale-blue skies and racing clouds and a hint of seasonal change. Then the temperature dropped back into February (it was zero when we got up this morning).
Today the sun is shining on our icy world. The snow is compacted and crunchy; the air is a bitter 20º. (How is it that 20º feels positively balmy some days, and other days very uncomfortable? Must be something to do with humidity levels.)
On the way to the railroad grade trail, the fenceline is paralleled by snowmobile tracks:
A few hundred yards down, a group of maples is covered with samaras that shiver and susurrate in the wintry wind.
(Susurration - such a lovely word, and so difficult to work into everyday conversation. But in a blog post one can say anything.) :)
To my right can be seen many shades of the season: icy pale blue of frozen water, rich champagne of dried grasses, bright rose of red-twig dogwood, softest brown of leafless trees, eternal dark green of pine (or spruce)...
...all framed by bare black branches. It's a gorgeous day.
Wires hug a post at the corner where two fences meet:
Pines in silhouette against a sinking sun:
At my feet are tiny dried flowers (knapweed, I think):
Oak leaves have sunk into the snow's crust. I carefully peel one out to reveal a leafy little snow angel:
Now here's a most unwelcome sight:
End of the line for Mrs. M, who would love to disregard the signs and keep right on, but whose conscience will not allow it. (Why doesn't she feel this law-abiding when it comes to speed limits?)
On my way home now, with the sun behind me. The north-eastern sky is palest pink at the horizon and turning these larches to priceless lace:
(At least I think they're larches.)
Tiny black specks dot the snow at my feet. I look up to see where they might have come from, and find these:
Overhanging the path is a tall bush, covered with clusters of what look like miniature pine cones. (Some kind of berry?)
The sun is getting very low indeed. Just one more shot of a sloping fence on a snowy field with a beauteous tree outlined against the drowsy sky...
...then home, where soup ingredients sit shivering in fridge and freezer, simply longing for a pot and a hot stove.
Wishing you all a lovely week filled with sunshine and warmth.
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P.S. Following Anne's example over at andamento, I have widened my blog a bit so as to have room for larger photos. Does it fit your computer screen, or do you have to scroll sideways to see the sidebar? Your feedback will be appreciated. :)
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