I know a place where the snow is virtually untouched.
We headed there this weekend after driving through the Rockefeller Preserve parking lots–both full.
Why go elsewhere when this silent homestead welcomes us to stroll its grounds, no questions asked?
We galloped, jumped, scuffed, crunched, and plowed our way through the fields to the frozen lake.
A dog approached me at full speed, barking excitedly. A few times. Other than he and his human, we were the only folks in the park.
Here is the sound of snow crunching.
On our way back from the lake, I saw these curiously large footprints. I dreamed it was Bigfoot, but it was probably just snowshoes. They were some big strides, though.
Speaking of which, I sometimes fantasize about purchasing snowshoes and poles and other such winter gear and storing them in one of those oblong compartments you attach to the top of the car.
Getting back to the story. After being hit with a few snowballs, we got back in the car and warmed our hands with the car heater. I thought about hot chocolate. And then we drove home.
Today, it rained.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this post, you might like this one on Fair Isle Socks.
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