And the children of the land rejoiced. We have several inches of snow on the ground. Yesterday was a snow day with no school. Furthermore, the white stuff is packing snow. Out walking with the dog this morning, I saw a snow snail in all its glory. About waist-high, it was detailed, with antennae, long neck, a face and a big, curly shell. Nearby stood what looked to be a two-headed snow zombie. It had grey pebbles in each of its mouths, and you could practically hear it moaning, “Brains, brains!”
There are regulation snowpeople out there, too, a few of them bordering on enormous. Whoever cleared the easements to Bromley Park used some means that generated huge snow boulders to either side of the paths. A snowperson in the middle of the park looks as if the maker or makers started with one of these snow boulders and rolled it until the mass was so great that he, she, or they couldn’t move it any farther. Adult help may have been necessary to hoist the upper-body and head pieces into place. Clearly, the makers had a fine time, as there’s another truly robust ball next to the snowperson, ready to be used on the next creation.
There are a couple of sledding hills near us, and today’s walk took us past one of them. As we approached, a dad was climbing up to the top, sled and small child in tow. When we left the hill behind us, it was to the excited, delighted shrieks of the child, sitting in front of Dad on the slide down. I wasn’t the only walker smiling at the child’s pleasure.
Even our dog likes snow, although yesterday he found it a bit of a trial. While it was still coming down—which it did from early morning to evening—few people ventured out to clear it from their walks. Thus, furry little fellows out for walks collected snowballs around their feet and legs and on their undercarriages. On their muzzles, too, if they vacuumed their faces through the snow to snarf up scents. The only unusual aspect of this accumulation was the size of the snowballs, some of which were almost as big as a fist. I cleared them frequently from Rascal’s coat, but they formed again right away. He looked like a two-toned poodle. People did clear their walks when the storm ended, so furballs aren’t such a problem for the neighborhood furballs today.
Up North, in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, the Department of Natural Resources has gone so far as to plow access to boat ramps on various lakes to make it easier for folks to go ice fishing. An extra benefit of the DNR’s having done this is that non-anglers are also enjoying the access to the lakes and have been hiking and snowshoeing around and across them. It’s good to live in a winter wonderland.
We saw deer that seemed happy to be here, too, last Sunday. We were turning south onto Nixon on our way to church when we spotted a doe walking north. And last year’s fawn behind her. And another fawn. And another doe and another fawn, all five of them out for a morning stroll up the sidewalk along Nixon Road. As we gobble up the deer’s habitat, they make themselves more and more comfortable in ours. The appearance of this fivesome in our environs sparked a conversation, as we motored along, about how glad we were that deer aren’t carnivores. Bucks have stomped and snorted at me in the woods Up North. And we once had a whole herd of whitetails sneak up on us from behind when we’d hidden in long grass to photograph them. Think how different life could be if deer were apex predators.
We had dinner at Cleary’s Pub in Chelsea on Tuesday, before the snowstorm. The sky was still clear as we drove home, wondering if it would stay that way long enough for us to see the green comet that hasn’t been this way in fifty thousand years. We hadn’t seen it so far, as we’d had nothing but cloudy nights for what had begun to seem like the entire time the comet’s been away. We didn’t see it Tuesday either; the storm was moving in.
But as we drove through downtown Dexter, we saw the gazebo in Monument Park still dressed in white holiday lights. It was lovely and, to our surprise, surrounded by sculptures from last weekend’s Ice Fest. The sculptures glowed in the ambient light of the quiet, snowy park and looked, indeed, like a winter wonderland.
27 January 2023
Nancy, what a wonderful description of a winter wonderland. Loved it vicariously! 🥰 Carole