I know that places north of us got a lot of snow in October, but we only got rain. On the way home from chorus last night, the flakes started falling. This morning there was a coating of icy snow everywhere. After my chiropractor appointment this morning, I rode around Westport, MA on my way home and realized the inland towns got a few more inches of snow than we did. Either way, it is a beautiful winter day in the south coast.
I had an urge to go walking in the snow and cold today. I had the foresight to bring my little camera with me, and once again, thought of my sister, Jeanne, recuperating from her chemo treatment on Wednesday. I decided to take her with me again for a stroll through the snowy woods along the sea marshy coastline. I ride by this wildlife refuge a lot, and always say, "I'll walk through there some day." I decided twenty-nine degrees isn't so bad for a healthy walk outside. I was bundled up enough to handle it. What a blessing! I'm so happy I went.
Walking along the snowy paths, I was struck by how the light caught ice draped on branches, making them look bejeweled. They sparkled and shimmered in the silence of wind murmurs permeating the crisp air. My face felt very cold, so I pulled my hood up over my hat and covered my chin with my scarf. It was just enough to feel comfortable. Each time I took my hands out to take a picture, they got really cold. At one point, I had to keep them in my pockets even though I had warm enough gloves on to protect them.
There were several marked and color-coded paths to choose from: white, yellow, blue, red and orange. The last one is the only one I did not explore. Each one was fairly short, but meandered through the forest. Several of the earlier paths opened out onto the sea marsh. The blue path brought me to a marsh I see whenever I drive along Seapowet Avenue, and the crunching of my boots on the snow scared a beautiful white egret from its foraging haven. It flew out of the marsh and circled around the pond before I could get my camera out of my pocket and snap a shot. I decided this lovely image was just meant for me, so I savored the moment.
At the end of the yellow path, that skirted the backyards of a couple of lovely houses, was another view of the marsh. This time, though, the Sakonnet River was beyond it in the distance. The light was so lovely this morning. I was so happy to be out. At one point, I took a picture with my cell phone and sent it to Jeanne, so I could not only report my walk to my mentor, but share the moment with her first-hand.
There were lots of little birds in the dense brush flitting about, and I didn't spy any other critters. But I did find an adorable set of tracks in the snow. I just had to capture them. Perhaps a racoon? I have no way of knowing. But, it felt very special to share the path with one of the refuge's furry residents.
At the foot of a bridge that crossed a small stream, I caught the sound of trickling. I just stood on the foot and listened. Trickling water and wind moving through the trees was all I heard. There were not even any bird sounds; just silence and peace. I stretched my arms out to either side with my eyes closed and just breathed it all in. The smell of low tide was so clean and filled me up. It was just magic.
On the way home I stopped to visit my horse friends once again. They seemed happy to see me.
I know that places north of us got a lot of snow in October, but we only got rain. On the way home from chorus last night, the flakes started falling. This morning there was a coating of icy snow everywhere. After my chiropractor appointment this morning, I rode around Westport, MA on my way home and realized the inland towns got a few more inches of snow than we did. Either way, it is a beautiful winter day in the south coast.
Walking along the snowy paths, I was struck by how the light caught ice draped on branches, making them look bejeweled. They sparkled and shimmered in the silence of wind murmurs permeating the crisp air. My face felt very cold, so I pulled my hood up over my hat and covered my chin with my scarf. It was just enough to feel comfortable. Each time I took my hands out to take a picture, they got really cold. At one point, I had to keep them in my pockets even though I had warm enough gloves on to protect them.
There were several marked and color-coded paths to choose from: white, yellow, blue, red and orange. The last one is the only one I did not explore. Each one was fairly short, but meandered through the forest. Several of the earlier paths opened out onto the sea marsh. The blue path brought me to a marsh I see whenever I drive along Seapowet Avenue, and the crunching of my boots on the snow scared a beautiful white egret from its foraging haven. It flew out of the marsh and circled around the pond before I could get my camera out of my pocket and snap a shot. I decided this lovely image was just meant for me, so I savored the moment.
At the end of the yellow path, that skirted the backyards of a couple of lovely houses, was another view of the marsh. This time, though, the Sakonnet River was beyond it in the distance. The light was so lovely this morning. I was so happy to be out. At one point, I took a picture with my cell phone and sent it to Jeanne, so I could not only report my walk to my mentor, but share the moment with her first-hand.
There were lots of little birds in the dense brush flitting about, and I didn't spy any other critters. But I did find an adorable set of tracks in the snow. I just had to capture them. Perhaps a racoon? I have no way of knowing. But, it felt very special to share the path with one of the refuge's furry residents.
On the way home I stopped to visit my horse friends once again. They seemed happy to see me.
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