I went for a walk after making pancakes and syrup for Sunday brunch. I decided to take my trimming shears and start clearing some of the brush and messiness from the willow patches in preparation for weaving them into tunnels later this year.
I tired of this fairly quickly. Shock, I know. I am not so good at things that require me to bend over and stand up repeatedly. I wandered off to see what was going on at the snail patch and the grove.
The snails were all still there, continuing to look dead, even though I know they are just frozen. How do I know? The one I brought inside yesterday keeps crawling out of his little house and onto my windowsill.
I headed for the grove, but was stopped by the magic of several branches full of pussy willows. In my excitement to reach out and pet them, I forgot to mind my feet. I stepped onto a patch of snow and promptly fell in with both feet, almost to the tops of my muck boots. When I fell, I inhaled sharply, sucking my own spit into my windpipe, choking myself. (I know you have all done that at least once!) While coughing and gagging and laughing at myself, I attempted to move my feet out of the hole. No luck. I was stuck quite nicely. I sat down, still coughing and hacking, and pulled myself free. Lesson learned. Do not step on hollow sounding snow. Only walk on the grass clumps! I was wearing two pairs of hand-knit socks (they are toasty and soft). I would have cried had the water topped my boots!
As I reached the grove, I saw that my friend had not been back yet. My snail gifts were still there, and all of the rocks were where I had left them. Slightly disappointed, I headed over to the shallow part of the creek where I can get in and wade around on the rocks a bit. When I dipped my head out of the grove, I was hit with a blast of cold wind and little ice pellets. The wind took a whistle and a moan through the grove and I noticed mist headed in from the East. I grumbled a bit, thinking it meant more rain, but as I flipped up my hood, I realized that it was about to get nasty.
I reluctantly headed back to the house, and by the time I got my boots off and in the door, the storm had started in earnest, and the back mountain had disappeared into the white. It began as sleet and then turned into the biggest, most ridiculous snowflakes I have ever seen. They looked like paper cranes falling from the sky. Megan and I had been lying in bed together learning Greek when we noticed the change. We both jumped up and ran to put on our boots and coats.
Dan and Alex joined us on the porch as we caught them on our tongues and laughed at how silly we looked to each other. Then, Megan and I headed out to see what the sled would do. She also wanted to see where I fell in, so we retraced all of my steps. When we reached the creek, we both got in and watched as the flakes dissolved into the water.
Did I mention, I love it here?