Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
As an almost imperceptible dampness touched my face as the meathead and I set out, I just assumed, not to be gross or anything, that I was breathing out a thin spray of snot.
Then I realized, yes, it is starting to snow something so fine it was almost like a frozen drizzle.
By the time we walked out of town, it was snowing hard enough to cut visibility to a couple miles over the fields to the north.
The meathead, snow sticking to his black back like white sprinkles, was only to happy to stretch out the extended ramble.
To fight off the grayness of the last few days, I was only to happy to stretch out a long walk in the snow, falling heavily enough to lighten the morning.
A few geese cackled on the lake to the west. They must still be swimming a hole open. Songbirds were thick in the brush by the town pond, but I could not positively identify any. A woodpecker I could hear flying, but not see, was in the back corner off the south old clay pit.
That was it for wildlife.
There was still some open water under the bridge over the neckdown between the two old pits. Storm and I tested the ice, but it is still too thin to walk on.
The kids will be disappointed. I had hoped to get them out for some play on the ice today.
Back in town, a cluster of women were working off Christmas in the storefront gym.
As I neared home, a young neighbor (young by my standards, but old enough to afford one of those Chrysler's featured in those television ads with the throbbing urban beat) turned the corner, then goosed it to slide his car sideways.
I understood the need to play in the snow, the need to go sideways.
If it keeps up, I will have to find a hill for the kids to sled on, or go sideways myself.
Streets, yards and sidewalks were already white by the time we reached our porch. The snow turned to bigger, thicker flakes.
Bring it on.
Of course, I found the trailer for Sideways.