Earlier in the week, we had just enough snow to dust the colder parts of the ground in white, while leaving the rest wet and icky. And, really, it only ever gets so gross here with our sandy soil, but still, Petey’s belly was a sand-packed mess after our Friday morning walk. Besides sweeping the dirt under the carpet of snow, with the late mornings and early sunsets, we’ve been looking forward to some “real” snow to brighten things up. And we got that this weekend.
Friday night, the lake effect snow engine (namely, north-northwest winds) kicked into gear, dropping several inches of fluff by this morning. Yesterday we awoke to a couple inches on the road, which really only amounted to a cooler and brighter morning walk. This morning, though, with a few more inches, overnight temperatures a few degrees below zero (about -20C), and no snow plows, we had no morning walk. Petey had no interest dragging his belly through three miles of snow, and I didn’t have the heart to force him. Or I had the heart not to
By this afternoon, enough intrepid drivers (not us – we don’t get our snow tires on until tomorrow, and learned our lesson last year) had packed ruts into the snow wide enough to accommodate an eager hiker and an energetic pup. We took a different route from our normal, and though still (obviously) within walking distance from home, I was impressed with the apparent isolation. Our four miles through winter-wonderland on (haha) county-maintained roads felt more like a hike through hardwoods-covered drumlins.
By the time Petey and I returned home, the sun had begun to peak through what had otherwise been an entirely cloudy sky. As the afternoon wore on, I thought I heard a sunset opportunity knocking.
Dramatic skies are the norm when there’s a break in lake effect
I checked on the skies again at about 4:30. I figure if you’re going to venture out onto unplowed snowy roads, it better be worth it. The warm light on the cold, cold surfaces indicated it would be.
Love the cakey look of the stairs. Second photo is a very frosty window in our mudroom
We knew it had been windy the past few days – we have a flopping piece of fascia trim to prove it – but we weren’t prepared for how utterly shellacked the Alden Marina was. I gingerly stepped out of the car, testing the surface, and then penguin-shuffled around on the slippery ground. I’m fairly certain the photos of wicked ice on the gentle tree are the only ones I took while standing – and that’s only because I had the tree to grab onto. The rest I was either kneeling, seated, or lying sprawled shamelessly on my belly.
Happy with my day’s “catch,” and with my fingers frozen from the biting wind, we headed back home. Also, I was certain the sun had wrapped up its nightly magic show – with tricks that weren’t too shabby in my opinion ;). As much as it pains me to admit it, I was wrong. I should know better by now than to leave early (and by early, I mean about fifteen minutes beyond official over-the-horizon sunset). Did I mention my poor little fingers? As we got closer to home, I kicked myself harder for having missed a beautiful opportunity. Post-sunset light fades quickly, and so I consoled myself that at least I got to see it.
But, I could still see red lingering as we came to the final stretch. We made a brief diversion, where I ran – gloveless – to the top of a hill overlooking Lake Skegemog. And look at this. Even my frozen digits think it was worth it