Since Kenan hadn’t yet delivered the amount of snow we were hoping for in western Maine, and shoveling seemed like a task best saved for tomorrow, we had time on our hands today. So, what should an antsy couple do, but strap on snowshoes and head out the door. Well, actually, head out the door, and then strap on the snowshoes.
Into Pondicherry Park did we venture, where even the covered bridge couldn’t provide a safe harbor from the flakes that flew sideways on the northwesterly wind.
With that in mind, we began to make a game of noticing how the flakes stuck to the trees, like these filling ridges.
Some were positioned like stacked layers of cotton balls.
Others held on despite the curvature of the trunk.
And still more formed half-hole coverings that turned woodpecker excavations into my third grade recorder (which I still have).
And then we looked for art forms such as this tangle highlighted in white.
And the boardwalk that was almost completely disguised as it snaked through the wetland.
Because we were outdoors we looked for tracks as well, but found only these prints who announced their creators.
And I practiced my snowshoe tightrope crossing–surprising myself with my prowess.
I think you’ll agree that our rosy cheeks tell the story of the stinging snow flakes–so propelled as they were by the biting wind.
At last we returned to the peace of our home and gave thanks for the warmth inside.
And then we received a couple of photos of our oldest son, who found his own way to survive much more snow in Boston.
He’s a Maine boy through and through.
It did our hearts good to know that like us, he was smiling his way through Winter Storm Kenan.
I hope you are as well. It’s almost 8pm here, and the wind speed has increased, and I know many are not as fortunate as we are to find fun in this storm. Wishing you all safety and warmth.
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