Skip to main content

winter picture book



I've always said that I'm a "dial-a-season" girl. Leaves and gorgeous colors in the fall, and I like snow at Christmas because, well, it's supposed to be snowy then, unless you live in Australia. Christmas in the summer does mess with you head when you've always experienced Christmas in the winter. Seasons just don't work on my personal whims!

I've always said that I'm a "dial-a-season" girl.


Anyway, I'm trying really hard to embrace all of the white stuff that we've been receiving this year. Granted, it is beautiful, covering the landscape in frosty wonder, and as I look at it through my camera lens, I do see the beauty instead of of the shoveling and sliding around. Have a look at what I'm enjoying through my camera's eye.




These brave snow birds clung to branches on a walk through Drake Park. They didn't seem to mind one little bit that their tree was coated in ice. They continued to sing their lovely song. Oh, to be like the birds. They puff up their feathers and croon a bird melody no matter what comes their way.




Near our house is a little man-made lake with benches, a walking path, dog park and community garden. It's part of my daily walk, most of the time. While the bench is still sitting there, not many people are sitting on it. I love how it's still there, just waiting. Isn't that what winter is about? Waiting, and letting things be dormant until the appropriate time?




Snow and ice form incredible, intricate patterns on the edge of the stream that flows through Shevlin Park. There were areas where the ice and water were that iridescent blue that we equate with glaciers from snowbound areas. It's the loveliest color of blue there is, thanks to the absorption of light and depth of the ice; fascinating scientific stuff that I don't understand.




Another contemplating bench placed in another part of Discovery Lake Park. My baby stood in the distance as our Isabella ran like a mad hatter through drifts that almost buried her. Then she'd pop up and do it again, all while my man watched in amazement. Did I mention this day was about 13 degrees?




A diminutive stone building sits by the edge of the river near the far end of Drake Park. The snow was just enough of a covering to make all white at this point; the pretty dusting I like for Christmas. Can you imagine living in a place that sits on the edge of the Deschutes? One's daily view would continually float by in an ever changing picture.




Ok, this crazy, insane girl of mine adores the snow. She will burrow down with her nose and slide on her face in a silly swirling back and forth motion. Isabella runs like the wind, bounding through the snow. She is oblivious to the cold, wearing her warm brown fluffy coat. I do pay attention to her paws, though, making sure snowballs aren't stuck in her pads.




Even the post of the split rail fence decided to wear a frosted beanie. I think it looks like a gnome's hat in a jaunty shade of crystalline.

I'm finding that there is something intensely peaceful about a snow-covered winter. Unlike the wet, drizzly ones that I've lived in for many previous years, where mud tracks in and the sound of tires on the pavement is amplified, snow is muffled, muting all sounds. When I'm out walking I hear the squeak of my boots with each step, the chatter of the birds and the sound of shovels scooping up the piles to clear a path. Maybe, walking in snow paths is my winter labyrinth.

Peaceful winter, my friends!

Missy



If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

urban girl in the country

green in concrete For the last lot-of-years I’ve lived in urban areas.  I’ve become a city girl with hints of a flower child mixed with hipster nuances…translated I like to wear skinny jeans.  This is the total opposite of how I grew up, which was on a farm.  My paternal grandparents grew, raised, caught and hunted for everything they ate – radical organic, free-range stuff.  On my Mom’s side of the fam tree, there were green grocers and orchard growers.  Heck, I was in 4-H raising feeder calves and a small flock of wooly sheep.  Gardens, canning, freezing and preserving everything was the ordinary. I carried on the gardening-preserving, saving the spoils piece, until I found myself in fresh veggie-at-a-farmer’s-market heaven!  The foreign city I found myself in had a temperate climate where fruit and vegetables could be grown year ‘round, and … it was sold at a giant open air market every week.  Yippee!  I no longer needed to ...

In full abandon, straining on tiptoes

A scrap of paper tucked in my journal is full of scribbled notes and words, people’s names – really it would appear to be miscellany.  One phrase is “in full abandon.”  The expression had a reference, but now reading it almost daily, it takes on new significance and worth. a.ban.don:  to leave and never return (Merriam-Webster) The word “abandon” conjures negative thinking; abandoned lot, abandoned project, abandoned people. Places and things are left for trash or individuals that have been discarded and tossed aside.  This definition certainly leaves one feeling rather desolate and, well … abandoned. On the sunny side of the street, abandon is also yielding without restraint, to give up control.  It’s bursting with exuberance. Picture being in full abandon:  there’s a child running down a hillside, arms flailing and legs barely able to keep them upright.  He is on the verge of tumbling head over heels, but somehow if that happen...

road tripping: french glen and steens mountain

we took a stinkin' lot of dirt roads, but i wouldn't have it any other way The drive wasn’t long by west coast standards, a mere few of hours; which meant there was plenty of leisure (interpreted coffee time) before leaving on another road trip escapade.  I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it is to pack a bag, gas up the car and set out to see what can be seen. An interesting thing I’ve discovered on these exploits, is that having lived in Oregon for the majority of my life, I’ve missed “seeing” a lot of things. You know, I think we all get into the habit of going to the same places, which is a good thing, but we forget about the “other” places that are right in our own backyards. Case in point, yesterday afternoon, when my darling man and I went to Tumalo Falls. I’ve been to Skyliner Snow Park, but never gone the few more dirt road miles to see the falls. Holy cow! Is that lame, or what? a sweet little place, no frills, but plenty of yesteryear ...