The weather forecasts have finally tipped the balance in the other direction. Four inches of fresh powder predicted for Tuesday, but about a foot landed on the mountain top. Things are returning to last winter’s norm, for the winds soon picked up and drifts over two feet deep blocked the dog’s morning rounds.
Last winter I made a lot of trails for the dog and I to explore, run, play hide and seek, etc. This year I’ve wrapped a band around the house, the old boy’s now limited daily loop, such that he can continue exploring his domain even though it is shrinking.
Another fresh round of snow in the overnight, and another morning with the snow blower. It sure is faster and more efficient, but you don’t know special until a blast of wind directs the spray back into your face on a five degree morning. The old dog refuses to even be outside when the beast is on; the throwing snow seems to unsettle him too much.
The chores are done, the grid is again brushed off and absorbing the rising sun on this day that should be sun filled until it sets. The snow is absorbing the sound and preventing many from moving. All is quiet. All is still. All is well today.