After a night of snowfall, I walked into old town and Coffee Landing Metro, the only place open today. “No charge on Christmas,” said the owner when I tried to pay. Big flakes fall as I take this picture of the place. You can sit either inside or out.
I tried to make a snowball as I walked a residential street. Few people decorate their houses like this one. Most houses show no interest in Christmas. No snowmen either, no carrot noses or cabbage ears. So I set out to correct the oversight with the rolling of a big snowball on which my plan called for two more. But I couldn’t even get it a foot in diameter before it crumbled no matter how hard I tried to compact the loose snow. Could it be that in the Icebox of the Nation snow is too cold for snowballs? Is warmer snow required for compaction? I gave up and kept walking.
The downtown street, Third Street, is nearly vacant of cars and crowded with snowflakes. They fall sidewise, and my camera catches them in its flash.
A Christmas tree seems appropriate, so I photographed this one near the library.
Where is my bicycler? All his tracks are gone now. Has something happened?
Is this a road or park perhaps? Maybe it’s a railroad. If a gray squirrel has hidden nuts here, how will he find them?
It seemed like a good day to try out the snow shoes that I brought and have never used. Is this how snowshoe tracks are supposed to look?
So white, so sparkling snow falling... what a different world you are in right now... in a way so isolated, and yet new friends... what was your dinner like? Maybe could you ask someone about snow balls... and men?
ReplyDeleteThank you for the especially lovely photos this morning. So nice to see the snow on snow on snow, and of course, so nice to see the pictures of the tree. More trees, please! Big ones, huge against the sky....just a couple? I just love the outline of bare branches. Seems to be a map of something I don't understand but am drawn to. What a lot of snow, so happy your wish for snow came true. It was good to hear your voice yesterday, you sound just the same, unchanged by the elements. That must mean our Sharon is gold. Be seeing you, Liz
ReplyDeleteLiz, I love your thinking of the bare branches against the sky as a mysterious map. I am drawn to things in the same way... even the unseen patterns of roots that I know are there... especially when there are many trees and you just know those roots are entangled!
ReplyDeleteI love the bicycle in the snow photo... it looks surreal, the red background, framing and snow make it look like a dream... it looks both inviting and impossible! Did you really see that, Sharon? Could it be the one that has left tracks?
Liz, I am happy to provide snow scenes for the home friends. I will try to catch more trees against clear skies. I also love their map-like forms. Trouble is these last few days have been stormy, but that will end and I will compose their naked branches on wide open space.
ReplyDeleteKathabela, I hate to ask about snowballs and men, as if I am not sophisticated. These matters are no doubt well-known to everyone but me, and I must appear to know them too. And, yes, I really saw the bicycle, not even locked, coated with a nighttime of snow, no footprints leading to or from it--amazing.
I know what you mean about not~asking... maybe it is, as you found, hard to use the snow that way...? Or maybe it is not seen as a plaything there, but something more elemental, that has to be dealt with, removed, endured?
ReplyDeleteEverytime I look at that bicycle it looks like a dream! Yes, amazing...
Merry Christmas seemed like my appropriate comment on Friday January 8, 2010. And no charge on Christmas is very nice -- starting here and going forward... Will come back to Friendliness later and continue to Christmas Day. I decided to start reading again just before the big snow falls come. I can't wait till the next couple of posts.
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