A chilly scene of winter, something many folks here in the Midwest are familiar with right now, though this photo was taken nearly a year ago. I had taken a solo trek to Roundrock, thinking that my life was incomplete without having seen my woods with a blanket of snow. As I recall, by the end of the afternoon, I was seriously reconsidering how important that ambition was. I took this photo on my hike out of Roundrock. Because of the ice, I had left the truck parked about a mile and a half away and had hiked in to our woods. That was fine since the physical activity of the walking kept me plenty warm. But the road was glazed with ice so I had to tromp through the tall grass beside it, which required me to lift my feet high with each step, out of the deepish snow and tallish grass. It was slow and tiring work. But I had to see my own forest filled with snow after all. I think the cold scoffed at my ambition, for I remember feeling that the view of the snowy woods was not as inspiring as I imagined. I wandered about Roundrock a good bit, seeing the slopes and ravines and the ice covered lake. I tried sitting in the weak light to eat my lunch and drink me tea (unsweetened, of course). And all the while I remember being cold. If I stopped moving for very long, I began to shiver. Cold, with an hour hike back to the truck before I could hope to get warm again. I didn't linger in the woods that day, but I did think that if I stayed in the trees, it would have some protection from the icy wind that blew across my neighbor's open field and sought any gap in my clothes. Walking in the snowy woods, bushwhacking in the snowy woods, proved about as slow going as striding through the tall grass had been, so despite the malevolent wind, I got myself on our road. I could walk straight out that way, without diverting around fallen trees or getting tripped by blackberry canes hidden in the snow. The photo above is looking west. I'm not sure if you can see it but the left side of the roadway is filled with a trail of deer tracks. It looked as though a half dozen deer needed to get somewhere by the most direct round and marched in single file along the road. That would have left them exposed to predators, but could they have known that hunting season was long ended? Or were they, like me, more interested in getting to their destination than enjoying the forest? Far ahead in the photo is the little pond we have. When the deer reached this, they left the road and crossed the dam, heading back into the trees. Had it not been so bitingly cold, I might have followed the tracks to see where they lead. (But, really, where would they have lead? Probably just across miles and miles of snowy ground, and I'm sure I would have given up before following the tracks to some deer haven.) Somehow I managed to get back to my truck that day, and I eventually found some warmth. I still want to see my woods filled with snow, and I'm sure I will some day, but I hope the conditions are less of a threat to my long term plans (continuing to live) when I can. Missouri calendar:

• A snowfall acts as insulation, protecting the animals beneath.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 18th, 2007 at 1:01 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.