lovely snow

the locals (& skiers) around here don't think we've had a good snow year. I'm pretty okay with it. I'm ready for it all to move on to Spring (not that it doesn't snow in Spring). I guess I'm a little over winter.

I have enjoyed the chance to get out my super snow boots. Black & clunky, but warm and solid. They make me feel strong in the snow. 

it stays relatively warm here, for winter temps. which makes winter seem not so long. but I'm ready for more light in the day. 

we planned on this being the winter I got on something other than snowshoes. but so far skis haven't been much of an option. I'm realizing that unless you live here to ski, it is easy for all the other things in life to get in the way. but, it could still happen. if on our next free weekend we have fresh snow.

walks through our snowy pastures have been lovely. I'm not over the loveliness of it all. 

unfortunately the roads quickly turn to mud out here. on my walk today I got stopped at the bend by the river. the snow is easier to walk in than the mud. but I knew the mud would take over. I detoured to walk along the river, noticing what tracks were in the snow. mostly it looked like the rabbits had a busy morning. and the magpies are so light the tracks they leave are like little skis on the snow.

by the snow

we took a walk this morning up our backyard mountain. a big snow is coming in, and I wanted to get a walk in before snow fell high enough to cover our boots. the path is muddy, from melting/freezing every day. the deer had been on the path recently. we walked in their prints. and now, looking out our west window, I can see the snow coming up the valley.

as I commented on how the landscape looks different with so much having died down, D., commented on how it all looked in the cold blue/grey light. 

libby has moved her naps to a wool blanket on the couch. my moccasin slippers no longer keep my feet warm, and I've changed to a pair that is lined in lambswool. 

Water, is taught by thirst.
Land--by the Oceans passed.
Transport -- by throe --
Peace -- by its battles told --
Love, by Memorial Mold --
Birds, by the snow.

-Emily Dickinson

the white stuff

as much as I know I need to find a job, or worry about finding a job, or figure out what to do to make some money, today I was just fine being able to stay home. we woke up to winter. heavy snow on branches, and the sky cold blue in the early morning, grey the remainder of the day. the snow is on-time, as the ski valley is officially opening this weekend. 

I decided to be done with sewing for a few days. (we lost power three times already today, once for several hours. so I suppose not planning to do any sewing today, was mother nature's idea too). I have bags made, tagged & in tubs. ready to deliver. so today I spent some time taking them out, looking them over, and clicking a few photos. is 100 bags enough? I have no idea. I guess I'll know next week. I'm eager to know, eager to move forward from this project and figure out my next one. 

this morning after d. left for work, I put on my boots for a tromp in the snow. I walked down our road to the rio, and found myself walking in the kind of silence only snow can bring. a snow crunch underfoot, the rustle of my jacket, and the wind just barely up, knocking the occasional flurry out of the trees. el Rio Hondo is in a mighty rush with all the rain & snow the mountains have had.  

tonight we're having chicken & vegetable soup. I've got kale, onions & garlic simmering into a stock already. 

friday/viernes

view of a valley pasture down the road. what you can't see are the small black figures of the cows, who were mooing in the whiteout of snow.


vacas en la nieve

the snow, again

For the listener, who listens in the snow,

And, nothing himself, behold

Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

-Wallace Stevens

spring snow

last weekend.
a surprising snowfall.
which quickly melted away.

am ready to start planting seeds in the ground. so, here's hoping the freak winter blast doesn't return--for months to come.