The snow is deeper than my knee-high boots. It is warm, on the verge of rain. Snow continues to fall; wet, heavy snowflakes inches across. Thankfully there is no wind. For the third time I shovel off my young evergreen tree that is pinned to the ground and the walk to the house. This is not a day to stroll in the woods as the boughs are covered in heavy wet snow. Bucket size plops slide off the evergreens, leaving craters as they hit the ground. Everything is outlined with a thick layer of sparkling blue snow.
The squirrels are tunneling to get to the birdseed underneath the feeders. They pop their heads out like prairie dogs along the way. I haven’t seen the birds; it’s probably too wet. They will come when the snow stops. We know what is coming next; cold always follows the snow.
Copyright kittycooks, December 25, 2009. 34 degrees.
The squirrels are tunneling to get to the birdseed underneath the feeders. They pop their heads out like prairie dogs along the way. I haven’t seen the birds; it’s probably too wet. They will come when the snow stops. We know what is coming next; cold always follows the snow.
Copyright kittycooks, December 25, 2009. 34 degrees.
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