It snowed again yesterday, and again last night. I rather like it, but being an adult, should probably consider the consequences. Snow, in large amounts must be moved so that people can get from place to place. When I was a kid, I didn’t have to consider such things—adults moved the snow for me. I was free to go sledding at nearby Maplewood Park, or to spend my time building snowmen. I also took part in my share of snowball fights. If I wished, I could stay inside and read—my favorite reading spot was the heater. Gimme some hard candy and a book, and I was happy for hours.

Pete cleaning solor panels

I do not know if, as a child, I took note of just how beautiful winters could be. I am, as an adult, definitely cognizant of this. There are right now, a multitude of cornices – they’re now hanging in a near inexplicable fashion from all kinds of objects, including car bumpers and porch railings. There are also the striated patterns formed by the numerous layers of snow—they are somewhat like tree rings in that they are a history of sorts. At this point in time, there was wet, heavy snow, and at this point in time, dry, flaky snow. And on it goes.

I rode Tinni today, and while out I noticed moose tracks. It climbed down one berm, walked a ways, and then climbed down another, to the brush below. Thus far, this has been a tough winter for the ungulates. They’re having to struggle through snow to get places, and to get at their food. I don’t envy them this form of hardship. Around here, it’s far easier to be a domesticated animal, for at least ours are routinely doled out a solid ration of goods.

Starting this week, I’ll be taking a digital photography course. I’m hoping that this will further hone my powers of observation. I feel like I’m missing too much. At least writing brings some of it back to mind.

Pete had the plow truck going today. Then the clutch went. I know that something’s amiss when I see him walking around with a long piece of cardboard. His having it in hand means that he’s going to put it under his back when he’s under the truck. He said that he doesn’t know what we’ll do, should we get more snow. I have a very good idea, though I did not articulate it. We can get a huge honking trailer, load up all the animals, and head south.

I remember once flying to Tallahassee, Florida—for some reason the plane first went to Tampa. It seemed to me to be such an amazing place, very tropical. Maybe this was just a dream. I would like to go back there and find out.

Next: 39. 1/14/12: What If?