A Walk in the Winter Woods

Woke up this morning to the sound of the county snowplow roaring up the road. We're expecting to get 3-5" of lake effect snow today. And since I am taking this week as my vacation, I decided to treat myself.

One of my favorite things to do is to go for a walk while it's snowing. When we lived in Chicago, Hubby and I used to get bundled up and walk around our neighborhood--occasionally helping a stranded motorist or two. Now that I live in the forest, it's even more fun to go out. This is the view from deck:

Everything is muffled. The chickadees, goldfinches, cardinals, and nuthatches are all absent. I refilled the feeders, then started out. 

I live on a section of trail that is used quite heavily by snowmobilers, and my goal was to get out before any of them had a chance to screw up the blanket of snow covering old tracks. I also absolutely detest the smell of two-stroke exhaust fumes. 

I took another photo of the tree that's part of this blog banner--it's a young black walnut:

I took lots of pictures. I absolutely adore snowy winter days. The only thing missing: Things One and Two. It was so quiet I could hear the squeak of snow underfoot, and the occasional chirp of a chickadee.

The shelf fungus has a twig growing up through it. Thought that was nifty. 

I shot a short video of the snow drifting down through the pines. I'll post that separately, I think. This is one of my favorite places on this walk: in the summer, it's a good 10 degrees cooler under the pines; in winter, well, you can see that it's a very sheltered spot--no drifts, and hardly a breath of wind even though there's a breeze coming in off the lake.

A section of tumbled-down rock wall. Given the straight rows of pines I just walked through, I'd say that it's highly likely that this area was all pasture in the dim past--there are rock wall remnants scattered all over this section of the forest.

In the summer, we can hear the ring of the blacksmith's hammer all the way at our house, when the wind's blowing the right way. The state historical society maintains this along with the house and the millpond sawmill (I didn't take shots of them because by this point I'd been out for an hour and my butt felt like it was about to fall off.


I feel calm, and grateful to live in this beautiful place.


If you liked the photos, please let me know in the comments. Thanks.