Flakey Business

It's a beautiful day!

I don't need to go anywhere,
and the snowblower is broken,
so it's time to ski!

More fun in the flakes!  Do you embrace or decry?

The monochrome world.
But this picture doesn't properly tell the story.

That's more like it.
The flakes were driven into my face by the northwesterly wind.

Knowing what is close and far is easy
since contrast fades as the distance increases.

Do you also hear the narrow bridge calling?
"You can make it...slide down the hill and across me."

The view from across the bridge and up the hill on the other side.

It's a beautiful sun-shiny day!

Hope I have enough sunscreen on.

One track up, one track down.

Where is everyone on this fine day?

There must be at least 50 shades of gray in this picture.
Perhaps that would be a good title for a book about cross-country skiing.

Time to head back home.
Sometimes gloves are not kind to fingers.
I should have worn my mittens.

Yes, it is snowing, and there are flakes the size of houses.
Some of them look like google-eyed men with long noses.
And a small beanie.

It's always easier to follow your track back home.

Especially when you keep your skis in the tracks.

Interesting how the same narrative can engender multiple reactions.  Some will be glad they can experience this, while others will reconfirm their decision to avoid it altogether.  A few will wish they could share the joy, and yet another group will lament being trapped in an unforgiving climate they don't believe they can escape.

Which group is yours?

My Big Backyard

When it snows, I have a really big back yard.
It's great to be able to ski right out your back door.

The owners of the lot backing up to mine provide a fine cross country ski resort.

The resort is also enjoyed by a number of other animals.
I would commit a faux pas if I didn't point out that these tracks
were created by fox paws.

Pretty amazing how far apart these fox tracks are.
The little guy can practically fly when he wants to.

This is his chalet.

There are humans out here too.
This one walked in the tracks I made yesterday.
But they are rare, and usually, all I see is their tracks.

Deer tracks.  Lots of them.

Note the cleft hoof.
This footprint is either from a deer or a small demon.

The creek winds through the course.

I'm looking down the little hill toward the narrow bridge.
Several disaster scenarios linger here, though I have not seen them.  Yet.

The ducks were minding their own business in the stream when I zipped across the bridge.
I'm not sure if they were more startled than I was, but they certainly left more quickly.

Always interesting to look back at what you created 
when you thought you skied a straight track.

The tracks on the left are from zipping down.
The tracks on the right were created while plodding back up.
It is the biggest hill in the world,
or at least it used to be when I dragged the kids to it on a sled.
I miss those days.

The cell towers are in the distance, near the main road.
I co-led the resistance to placing them on the other side of the course, 
backing up to the surrounding houses.
¡Viva la Revolución!

I spooked this guy while he was minding his own business in the creek.
Pretty rare to see a Heron this time of year.
It's always a good day when you see a Heron.

40-odd years ago, I occasionally played hockey on this pond with the kids who lived around the course.
We'd shovel the ice and skate for hours.
We weren't very good.  We still have all our teeth.

Another pretty spot where the creek has been diverted around a pond.

I never go near the clubhouse,
 just in case someone wants to exercise his Second Amendment Rights.

The squirrels also have a clubhouse.
I never go near theirs, either.