School was canceled for Thursday
a full half-day ahead, leaving the day pretty clear. The snow began accumulating yesterday
morning, and it snowed fairly lightly but steadily the rest of the day. I shoveled the inch or so late in the morning
for visitors, and then several new inches--just sidewalk and the upper part of
the driveway--in late afternoon. School
was then cancelled for Friday, as well.
I went out about 8:30pm, clad in ski pants, down jacket, knit aviator cap, and fleece gloves, with camera in pocket. (Dictum: there is no bad weather, only bad clothes.) Though all day the thermometer had clung stubbornly to 30oF, it began to drop rapidly in the evening, and now stood at 14oF. I took photos around the yard, and then in my Wild Place behind the house over half-an-hour or so. I could have stayed out longer, but using the camera bare-handed proved too painful to continue.
In Walden, Thoreau wrote, "For many years I was self-appointed inspector of snow
storms...," and so I decided to substitute in his absence this once.
I went out about 8:30pm, clad in ski pants, down jacket, knit aviator cap, and fleece gloves, with camera in pocket. (Dictum: there is no bad weather, only bad clothes.) Though all day the thermometer had clung stubbornly to 30oF, it began to drop rapidly in the evening, and now stood at 14oF. I took photos around the yard, and then in my Wild Place behind the house over half-an-hour or so. I could have stayed out longer, but using the camera bare-handed proved too painful to continue.
Probably only about half the snow has fallen. Tomorrow, after we shovel out,
I'll have to see who came to visit.
I took my youngest from his industry with the words, "how about a little adventure?"
Our neighbor loves decorating with lights--at all seasons.
Five views of my Wild Place.
(The last is looking straight up.)
The first four views, with flash
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