cloudy day snow walk and winter thoughts

Today is not a cloudy day.  Nope, the sun is shining brightly, causing the snow to sparkle.  But I've been saving up some photos from a couple recent tromps through the snow.  There's just something about snow.  I know some people despise it, but I love it.  During conversations about where we should move after Ohio, Matthias and I often mentioned snowiness as one of the attributes on our wish list.  So far, Wisconsin seems to be delivering in the snow department.

Snow in the country is different than snow in the city.  It's far less dirty out here; the snow isn't tainted by exhaust fumes and traffic.  And away from the road there is so much pristine snow.  I've always loved smooth, unbroken snow.  As a child it was something to be saved up.  Our backyard was fairly small, but I'd parcel out bits of it, leaving some snow unmarred by footsteps.  As the bossy older sister, I'd forbid Phil from walking in those saved areas because I wanted to be the one to make the first tracks.  Out here I have no say in who walks where.  And I love seeing what sort of tracks will appear each day and trying to figure out what went on.  Many of the photos I've been taking are of tracks in the snow.  Like this one:

I imagine a mousy relay race between these weeds.

And I wonder if the rabbit hopping toward the barn went in there and who else might be going in and out of it.

And that one thrilled me.  So many tracks.  Bird tracks.  Mouse tracks.  What were they all doing?

Feather marks in the snow.  Were they taking off?  Landing?  Just waddling around?

And holes in the snow.  It's still deep in places and I imagine networks of tunnels beneath the snow.

Do you see the little hole by the tangle of dry grass?

But my camera wasn't just trained on the ground.  I was drawn out of the house that day by the sky.  Light was breaking through the textured clouds in such a way that I couldn't stay inside and I couldn't leave my camera behind.

I ventured to the huge old apple tree at the corner of our property wondering who's been sheltering beneath it.

And in every season so far (or at least since we moved in at the end of August), I've been intrigued by the cornfields.  I know cornfields are a pretty mundane thing, but I've never lived so close to them before.  The stubble sticking through the snow is beautiful.

 

And I enjoy watching the animals in the fields.  Crows, pheasants.  I know there are others.  I see tracks of others, but so far I haven't seen the animals making them.

Tromping through our meadows, I noticed that in places, the only plant material left standing is skeleton after skeleton of Queen Anne's Lace.

I've loved these in every season (again, since the end of August) so far.  So delicate and beautiful and also so sturdy, having survived the winter like this.

And I can never take enough photos of my favorite pine standing, watching over the farm.

I'm so glad I ventured out.